


Our First Christmas

by Trumpeteer34



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 25 Days of Christmas Fic, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dating, Deaf Clint Barton, Developing Relationship, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Food, Hulkeye - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Not Thor: The Dark World Compliant, Team as Family, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:23:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 69,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trumpeteer34/pseuds/Trumpeteer34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the 1st day of December, Bruce Banner shares his first kiss with Clint Barton. He can only look forward to the coming days.</p><p>25 Days of Christmas Fic prompts! Updates every day until Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.
> 
> Basic timeline is that this takes place two and a half years after the Chitauri Invasion in the 2012 film. _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ took place back in April of 2014. Please note that this is not compliant with _Thor: The Dark World_ , as I still have not seen it.

_“Level 53: The Communal Floor,”_ came JARVIS’s voice from the inside of the elevator as the doors slid open, and Bruce took a step to walk off the elevator—

—and immediately froze.

Hanging from the wall in front of the elevator was an enormous wreath, complete with brightly colored ornaments, pinecones, and a cheerful red ribbon. The thing was probably close to five feet tall and five feet wide, and it seemed like a miracle that it was even hanging up.

Bruce stared at it like he had never seen anything like it before.

 _“The Communal Floor, doctor,”_ JARVIS said again after a lingering moment of stillness and silence.

It was enough to shake Bruce from his thoughts. He stepped out of the elevator, eyeing the gargantuan wreath as he walked around the monstrous thing to move toward the kitchen. He had been in the lab all day and had been reminded that the team dinner was supposed to begin in five minutes. 

He couldn’t smell anything in the air to indicate what they were having, but then he remembered that it was Tony’s turn to provide the team dinner tonight, meaning it was being delivered. It didn’t really make any difference to him, he mused to himself as he walked toward the doorway to the kitchen, since he had been so caught up in his work that he had completely lost track of time. Clint had been busy that afternoon, so they hadn’t had lunch like they normally did, and—

As soon as he stepped into the doorway, he found himself wrapped up in a pair of muscular arms and crushed against a solid chest. Tension swiftly rose up inside him, but he was distracted when the lights overhead dimmed and a spotlight suddenly shone down on him and— _Thor?_

The massive Asgardian gave him a stunning grin.

Before Bruce had a chance to even think about asking what was going on, Thor’s lips crashed into his. Eyes shooting wide, he inhaled sharply through his nose in surprise at the feel of Thor all around him, of the searing kiss being pressed against his mouth and scratch of beard against his chin.

And just as suddenly as it began, it ended.

Thor drew back and gave Bruce’s body a hearty squeeze of an embrace before he let go. The lights suddenly came back on, and the spotlight disappeared.

As Bruce stood there, flabbergasted, Thor twisted around to look into the kitchen toward the source of cackling laughter. “Is that the proper festive greeting when this plant hangs from above?” the demigod asked.

_Plant?_

Bruce tipped his head back and he glanced overhead. 

“Thor,” came the voice of Tony Stark, almost breathless with laughter, “Thor, my man, I think you’ve knocked this one out of the ballpark.”

Bruce continued to stare at the top of the doorframe. “Why is there mistletoe hanging up?” he heard himself murmur.

“It’s Christmas!” Tony declared, finally appeared from behind the wall and Thor. He was still grinning widely, like he was a beat away from falling into a fit of giggles again. 

Bruce looked away from the offending plant and back at Tony. “Thanksgiving was yesterday,” he pointed out.

“Right,” Tony agreed, “which means today begins the Christmas season.” He reached out and pulled Bruce out from under the mistletoe before he wrapped an arm around his shoulders to lead him into the kitchen. “I hire some people every year to decorate Stark Industries—well, Pepper hires them, but they always deliver one hell of a product.” 

His grin turned wicked as his gaze turned to Thor. “I was just telling our foreign teammate, here, about some of the things he’s seen so far.”

Bruce followed his lab partner’s eyes to the demigod, who was looking rather proud of himself for having followed the holiday custom correctly. He realized that Natasha and Clint were both sitting at the table Thor had sat himself down at. 

The tips of his ears heated up when he saw the warm and amused smile on the archer’s face. That feeling of his stomach doing somersaults in his core made itself known as he briefly met Clint’s eyes. It was a feeling he was becoming more and more familiar with these past few weeks spent in the archer’s company.

“And the spotlight?” Bruce asked as he tore his eyes away from Clint while Tony led him to the table.

Tony grinned again. “That’s just a request for JARVIS to do whenever two people are caught under the mistletoe together, so they _have_ to kiss.”

Once Tony had practically shoved Bruce into the empty chair next to Clint, Bruce remained still for a moment before he turned to glance at the mistletoe hanging in the doorway. His eyes cut back to Tony. “And how many times have you already accosted Pepper?” he asked knowingly.

A wounded look appeared on Tony’s face even as Natasha replied, “Four.”

“That you’ve seen,” the engineer pointed out.

Natasha looked up from her phone and stared straight at Tony. “Four,” she repeated herself.

As Clint smirked, Tony opened his mouth to make a comeback, but it was cut off by the sound of a petite _ding_ from beyond the doorway. Tony immediately perked up and shot off out of the kitchen.

“Soon to be five,” Natasha corrected herself.

A hearty laugh burst from Thor. “Our host is most festive.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Clint replied with a wicked grin.

Bruce turned to glance back at the mistletoe one more time before he looked over at Clint. “Do you know how much of that stuff he put up?” he asked quietly.

The grin on the archer’s face softened into a heartfelt smile, the kind that always made Bruce feel a little warmer and made his stomach feel a little lighter. “Oh,” Clint began airily, “I’ve seen it here and there. You shouldn’t have to worry _too_ much about being ambushed and put under the spotlight.”

There was something almost mischievous in the man’s tone, but before Bruce could comment on it, Steve came into the kitchen with the delivery bags, followed by Tony and Pepper. Immediately, the lights dimmed and a sudden spotlight shone down on the couple.

Pepper’s shoulders fell with an inaudible sigh and she turned a look over at Tony, who was trying—and failing—to look innocent. “Is this going to be anything like last Christmas?” she asked.

Tony shrugged, already leaning in for a kiss. “Probably,” he replied, a smile starting to tug on his lips. “Only there are more doorways here,” he went on before he pressed a kiss to her smiling lips.

At Tony’s comment about doorways, Bruce turned a raised eyebrow toward Clint. When the archer returned the look with a raised eyebrow of his own, almost in challenge, Bruce got the feeling that he _would_ be ambushed and put under the spotlight, at least by one person in particular.

Strangely, Bruce found himself looking forward to it.

Steve’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “But it’s still November…”

==

The following days leading up to the beginning of December were filled with surprises. There were new Christmas decorations constantly springing up where Bruce least expected them. Tony had apparently gotten carried away with adhesive window stickers to the point that there wasn’t a window Bruce could find outside of his room that didn’t have some kind of decoration. Even the glass walls in the labs did not escape harm. It had been a little unsettling to step out of the elevator to see a line of ornaments, nutcrackers, and reindeer all along the windows.

Tony had even changed the elevator’s _ding_ -ing arrival sound to that of jingle bells. It was a little unnerving.

But most surprising of all (or maybe the least surprising) was the amount of mistletoe Tony had bought and had hung. It was literally _everywhere._ He was very quickly learning which areas had been infested, since he continuously found himself in JARVIS’s spotlight—

—and always with Clint. 

The first few times it had happened had seemed almost innocent. Ever since the archer had started coming by the lab a few times during the week, Clint would always try to lure the scientist away from his work for lunch. They had been walking along when the lights suddenly dimmed and they found themselves in the spotlight. Sure enough, when Bruce glanced up, there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging overhead.

Those first few kisses had been sweet little things, pressed to a cheek or, one time, to the tip of Clint’s nose. Each press of the archer’s lips against Bruce made that feeling in his core a little stronger, to the point where he was almost hoping to be caught in Tony’s holiday trap.

The longer it went on, however, the less Bruce suspected it was happening by accident. Each time the spotlight would shine down on them, Bruce would catch a hint of a smile appear on the archer’s lips.

He was discovering that he didn’t mind it.

==

Bruce was beginning to finish up a major experiment when JARVIS softly interrupted his thoughts. _“Doctor, Agent Barton is on the line.”_

There was a pause as Bruce felt his brow furrow. Clint always came down to the lab himself if he ever needed to talk to him. “Uh…okay. Patch him through, please.”

“Hey, doc!” Clint’s cheerful voice came through once the call had connected. “Are you at a stopping point? I grabbed some sandwiches from that place down on 4th.”

A quick glance at his watch showed that it was after one in the afternoon. “Yeah,” Bruce replied. “Give me like fifteen minutes and I’ll head up.”

Bruce brought himself to a good stopping point, using each of those fifteen minutes as he worked diligently and with complete focus. When he was done, he stood up and stretched. As he walked across the lab to the exit, he slipped his glasses off his face.

The lab doors slid open as he was tucking his glasses into his shirt pocket, but he paused when he suddenly found himself in the spotlight. There was a figure to his left, close enough to trigger the spotlight, and when he turned, he was completely unsurprised to see Clint leaning against the window, right next to a giant sticker of a snowman. 

A brief glance upward showed that a sprig of mistletoe had been attached to the doorway over the entrance to the lab, though this one was held in place by one of Clint’s arrows.

Bruce snorted a laugh at the sight before he looked back at Clint, and warmth flooded through him when he saw the smile on the other man’s face. “You’re not even trying to be subtle anymore,” Bruce pointed out.

Clint’s smile brightened, and Bruce’s belly flipped. The archer pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to the physicist. “I wasn’t really being too subtle to begin with,” he replied.

A hum of agreement escaped from Bruce, and when Clint took another step closer, he lifted his chin and met the archer’s eyes. He was almost surprised to see a faint hint of nervousness lingering behind the man’s expression, and for some reason, he found it endearing. 

Bruce felt himself smile, and he pointedly looked at Clint’s lips. That warmth heated up as he watched the corners of those lips turn upward, and heated up even more as they got closer. He lifted his eyes up to meet Clint’s and he was floored to see the affection there. 

“Who’s not being so subtle now?” Clint murmured. They were so close now that Bruce could feel each breath lightly against his face.

“Would you just kiss me?” Bruce asked, almost surprised and mortified by his boldness.

But it brought a gorgeous smile to Clint’s face, the kind that made his eyes light up and his laugh lines crinkle. Bruce was so caught up in just how stunning this man in front of him was that before he knew it, the archer was closing the small distance between them.

It was just a gentle press of lips against lips, not the kind that Tony gave Pepper or the overenthusiastic kind that Thor had demonstrated on him, but it was perfect. Bruce felt his eyes flutter shut and he kissed back.

The kiss was brief, ending almost too soon for the both of them, but their lips drew apart and Clint lightly rested his forehead against Bruce’s. The physicist’s eyes reopened just in time to see the lights return to normal.

The pair stayed like that for a lingering moment, simply breathing, before Bruce carefully let his hands rest upon Clint’s hips. He watched the archer’s eyes light up again and Clint’s arms gingerly wrapped around Bruce’s body, pulling him a little closer. As he felt the man’s fingers begin to run into his hair, his hand warm against the back of his neck and head, Bruce took the plunge and leaned in.

There was a blissful sigh that could have come from either of them, and Bruce wasn’t exactly sure who made it. He could only focus on the feel of Clint’s lips against his, of that hand in his hair and the other against his side, of the warmth of each of those points of contact, and Bruce can’t help but lean in for more.

He nearly ended up chasing after Clint’s lovely mouth when the archer broke the kiss. His eyes drifted open once more to the sight of Clint staring at him with a heated expression and a smile touching his lips. 

“Those sandwiches are gonna get cold,” Clint said softly.

 _To hell with the sandwiches,_ Bruce wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. Instead, he huffed a quiet laugh. “Right,” he breathed back.

Clint’s hand slid down from where it had been cupping the back of his head, running over his shoulder and down his arm until their fingers tangled together. 

They traded little smiles again. “Come upstairs with me?” Clint asked.

Bruce felt his smile grow and he led the way toward the elevator. He thought about all of the different places on the communal floor where Tony had hung the festive plant, and how many of those doorways he and Clint had found themselves in over the last few days, and those doorways he was about to lead Clint toward now.

The elevator arrived with a festive jingle bell sound, and they were treated to the sight of the festive explosion of window stickers lining the lab’s glass walls while they waited for the doors to slip shut. Bruce fixed his hold on Clint’s hand so their palms slotted together, even as soft instrumental Christmas music began to play through the elevator speakers.

But no matter how crazy Tony went with the decorations, Bruce was rather beginning to like the mistletoe.


	2. Cider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

_“…uce…?”_

He was almost grateful for the frigid cold, as it nearly numbed what was sure to be some rather terrible pain that always accompanied a transformation back into himself. It was the cold that he felt first, long before anything else. The exhaustion came next, but despite it, he felt himself coming awake to the sound of what was probably his name.

_“Bruce?”_

It took an effort that he didn’t really want to think about to force his eyes open. He breathed in deep through his nose, but the stinging cold stopped him short with a shuddering groan. He wanted to curl in on himself to conserve body heat, but he couldn’t feel his limbs. 

The sound of his name registered through the fog in his mind, and he latched onto that instead of the all-consuming cold. His eyes opened again, and though his vision was blurry with exhaustion, he still recognized Clint’s face hovering above him. 

The sight sparked a small flame of warmth in his chest, and he clung to it. Then he realized that the archer had been shaking one of his shoulders, but he was too numb with cold to feel it. 

In that moment, Bruce would have chosen the pain over the numbing cold, if it meant he could feel Clint’s fingers against him.

“There you are,” Clint’s voice drifted to him, probably recognizing that the physicist had some semblance of himself back. 

Bruce tried to bite back another groan when Clint helped him sit up, and he suddenly realized that he was violently shivering. “…’ow’d we do?” he managed to get out past his ravaged throat and his chattering teeth.

“We won, of course,” Clint replied. He pulled a blanket out of what seemed to be thin air and wrapped it around Bruce. “Hulk managed to get away from us,” he explained as he continued to tuck the fabric around Bruce’s body.

The exhaustion was beginning to pull Bruce back down into unconsciousness and he slumped against Clint, his face going into the archer’s neck.

A surprised yelp escaped from Clint, accompanied by a shiver. “Your nose is _freezing,”_ he complained even as he let one hand go to the back of Bruce’s head to hold him in place.

“M’sorry,” Bruce mumbled against the warm skin.

Clint laughed softly. “No, you’re not.”

Bruce hummed against his neck.

He would have loved to stay like that, his face pressed against Clint’s inviting neck with a warmth that he wanted to bury into. When Clint helped him to his feet, however, he had to abandon the reprieve from the cold. He tried not to let out the whine that wanted to escape.

Clint helped him along, keeping to a path that had the least amount of twigs and rocks and pine needles. It was then that Bruce started to remember bits and pieces of the fight. He didn’t remember the battle occurring in a forest, but Clint had mentioned that the Other Guy had gotten away from the team. 

Bruce forced his eyes open to blearily take in the surroundings. Dotted around were a few smashed up robots that the Other Guy must have chased all the way out here, away from the area of the city where the battle had started. They dodged around a few uprooted trees before they came to a clearing, where their jet was waiting. 

They crossed the open space to the jet and climbed aboard. The rest of the team was already there. The inside of the aircraft was deliciously warm, which triggered a new set of shivers through Bruce’s body. He vaguely heard the archer say something to the new-SHIELD agent who was their pilot today, and as soon as they were seated on one of the benches, the jet was airborne. Bruce slumped back into Clint’s body when the archer tugged him in, and he almost smiled when his face was pressed back into Clint’s neck.

Between the gentle rocking of the jet and the archer’s fingers carding through his tangled hair, Bruce succumbed to slumber.

==

“Just a little further,” Clint was saying under his breath as held Bruce upright. “We’re almost there. Don’t fall back asleep yet.”

“…m’okay,” Bruce replied softly. He forced his eyes open just to prove that he was still able to.

Clint snorted. “Quit lying,” he replied in an almost fond tone. 

They made it to Bruce’s floor and out of the elevator without a great deal of difficulty. The archer carefully deposited Bruce onto the sofa and tucked the blanket more tightly around him. “Think you can stay awake for just a little longer?” Clint asked as he knelt down in front of the sofa and Bruce. “I think I know something that’ll warm you up.”

Bruce blinked to bring Clint’s face into focus. “Yeah, I’m up,” he replied after a beat. 

The smile that crossed the archer’s face was gorgeous. As he was standing up, Clint leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Bruce’s forehead before he grinned. “I’ll be right back!” he said brightly as he moved off to the exit of the suite.

Bruce stayed where he was even after the elevator doors had shut, marveling over the brief kiss. Clint or Tony normally helped him down to his room after a battle when he was too exhausted to safely make the trip on his own, but they didn’t stay with him. They had their own post-battle rituals to perform before they all met up for dinner later. Bruce was used to just sleeping by himself so he could recover from a transformation. To have Clint wanting to come back made something in his core flutter, and his mind went back to the quick press of lips against his forehead. 

It was only yesterday that they shared their first kiss under the mistletoe. There had been a few kisses since then, but Bruce hadn’t seen Clint that day until the call to assemble had been made. 

Bruce wasn’t sure what exactly was going on between them. What were they now? He had known that they were heading toward something more than friendship for the past few weeks, but yesterday had changed it. 

It wasn’t the sort of thing he could really ponder over in his post-Hulk funk, but he was almost reluctant to put a label on it. What they were was between the two of them, and honestly, if they were both happy, it didn’t really matter.

The kissing was really nice, though.

Bruce felt himself blush slightly at that thought and he shook himself back to the present. After tugging the blanket more tightly around himself, he pushed himself to his feet and shakily wandered toward his room for some clothes. 

As he was pulling a sweater over his head, a sweet aroma drifted past his nose. He paused and sniffed the air, breathing in the sweet smell that had a fruity scent to it. Clint must have snuck back in without making a sound.

Sure enough, when Bruce carefully followed the scent to the kitchen, leaning cautiously on the walls lest his legs give out under him, he found the archer (now in comfortable civilian clothes) standing at the stove, stirring something in a saucepan. On the counter next to him was a jug of apple cider, a handful of different containers of spices, and…

“Is that syrup?” Bruce asked, squinting at the bottle from across the room as he came to a stop in the doorway.

Clint turned around, having apparently seen movement from the corner of his eye. “Hmm?” he asked, tilting his head just slightly in a way that told Bruce he didn’t have his hearing aids in. A quick glance at his ears, along with the way Clint’s eyes were locked on his lips, confirmed it. He must have taken them out when he changed.

“Is that syrup?” Bruce repeated, gesturing mildly at the unmarked bottle on the counter.

Clint grinned at the other man. “This is _maple_ syrup,” he said, holding up the bottle for Bruce to see, “the _real_ kind.”

A small smile found its way to Bruce’s lips and he gingerly walked into the room. “I’m kind of surprised the bottle isn’t shaped like a little old lady.”

A snort of laughter escaped from Clint. “Mrs. Buttersworth is great on pancakes and stuff, but for this, you need the real stuff.” He then turned back around to put the bottle back down, and then shooed Bruce toward the table on the other side of the kitchen island. “Now go sit down before you fall down.”

“I guess that answers my question if you need any help,” Bruce murmured calmly to himself as he all but collapsed into a chair at the table. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, Clint fixing up some kind of cider while Bruce struggled to stay awake. 

He thought he was doing a pretty good job of not dozing off, but when a hand gently landed on his shoulder, Bruce jumped and startled awake. He saw an apologetic look cross Clint’s face before he set a steaming mug of cider down in front of him. “Sorry,” Bruce said as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Nah, man,” Clint replied, giving his shoulder a friendly pat, “I know you need to sleep. I just want to make sure you get warmed up before then. You were out in the woods for a while before we found you.”

Bruce’s eyes followed Clint as he sat down in the chair next to him with a mug of his own. The steam drifted up toward his face, bringing with it that delicious aroma that had drawn him into the room in the first place. Bruce glanced down to look at the cup in front of him and felt himself smile when he saw the stick of cinnamon settled in the cider. It smelled absolutely heavenly.

It tasted just as good as it smelled, perhaps even better.

“Wow,” Bruce said after a second sip, glancing over to see a modest little smile on Clint’s face. “This is fantastic. Where on earth did you learn to make this?” He took another sip, letting the flavors of the maple, the spices, and little bits of apple down at the bottom of his mug play across his taste buds. He could already feel the warmth beginning to radiate out from his belly. “I never took you for someone who drank cider.”

Clint shrugged a little, sipping at his own drink with a look of contentedness on his face. “It’s more of a winter thing than anything,” he replied. “One of the acrobats used to make a batch on particularly cold nights and would share it with anyone who wanted some. ‘Course, his always had a bit of a kick, what with the half-bottle of rum he’d pour into it, but it got the job done of warming everyone up.”

The archer brought his mug up again and let it settle beneath his nose, simply breathing in the scent of the delicious cider. “Even without the rum, though, it was pretty good. It was one of the things me and Barney used to look forward to each winter when we were younger—Barney more for the bit of booze, but I always liked the taste. I started fiddling with what I remembered of the recipe after SHIELD recruited me.”

There was a long moment in which neither of them spoke, opting instead to sip at their mugs of apple cider in peace. The combination of different flavors worked wonders in warming Bruce up, which was beginning to bring back his exhaustion with a vengeance.

“Then again,” Clint began, drawing Bruce out of his thoughts by breaking the gentle hush between them, “Tony’s festive spirit might be contagious. I’ve been wanting to make some since he decked the halls.”

Bruce snorted a laugh and finished off his mug. “Well, I certainly won’t complain if you make it again.”

When he set down his mug and glanced back over at the archer, there was an affectionate little smile touching Clint’s lips, and Bruce was struck by an urge to kiss him. 

“Maybe I should wait until you treat me with some sort of festive food or beverage,” Clint replied, his smile turning playfully challenging.

Despite his exhaustion, Bruce felt himself returning the smile with a raised eyebrow. “I think that’s doable,” Bruce replied casually. “I’ve been told I make a mean hot chocolate.”

For whatever reason, that earned a laugh out of the archer, and it was music to his ears. He knew a sappy smile had crossed his face, but he couldn’t help it. There was such warmth in that laugh, and combined with the warmth from the cider and the lingering taste of spices and apple in his mouth, it was all a little intoxicating.

Clint turned a toothy grin toward him before he reached over and collected the two empty mugs. “I want to taste this hot chocolate of yours and see how _mean_ it is,” he replied with a teasing smile.

“You’re on,” Bruce replied while Clint was still facing him so he could read his lips and see his smile, which was followed promptly with a yawn.

The archer’s grin softened and he turned to go to the sink to begin rinsing out the cups while Bruce tried to work up the motivation to stand up again.

“I’m going to leave the rest of this cider down here for you,” Clint said once he was finished and had returned to the saucepan, still sitting on the stovetop. He pulled down a thermos—Bruce didn’t even know he had one—and poured the rest of the cider into it for storage. “There’s probably enough for three or four more drinks, so you should be set.”

The kindness of the gesture struck Bruce silent for a long moment. He finally found the motivation to get to his feet.

Clint turned away from the stove when Bruce gently laid his hand on the archer’s shoulder. Bruce leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Clint’s cheek. “Thank you,” he said softly, hoping the other man knew he was thanking him for more than just the leftovers of his amazing cider.

From the smile that appeared on Clint’s face, he knew Clint knew.

The archer twisted just enough so he could plant a quick proper kiss on Bruce’s lips, followed by a longer one that had Bruce leaning in. They both tasted like apples and spices and sweet like syrup and it only made them yearn for more.

Bruce was the one to break the kiss, because as much as he wanted to continue this for the next several hours, he didn’t want to be rude and fall asleep in the middle of it. Clint followed his lips when Bruce pulled away, making the scientist’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Come back,” Bruce whispered. When Clint drew back with his eyebrows raised, Bruce continued. “Later, come back for more of that cider.”

The lines around Clint’s eyes crinkled as his face lit up with a beautiful smile. “Yeah?” 

What felt like a sappily tender smile crossed Bruce’s face, and he leaned in to press one final kiss against the tip of Clint’s nose. “Yeah.”

Clint promised to come back to get him before the team dinner later that night, which would give Bruce several hours of uninterrupted sleep, which was exactly what he needed. The other man managed to sneak in one last parting kiss before he disappeared, off to do what he normally did after a battle.

Bruce remained in the doorway as the elevator arrived with a jingle bell sound, which prompted a snort from the physicist. He returned the archer’s enthusiastic wave of departure and waited until Clint had disappeared behind the closing elevator doors before he slipped away toward his room.

Before he could make it too far, he paused to take a deep breath. The air still smelled like apples and spices with a certain sweet tint to it. He breathed in deeply again, letting the aromas fill his lungs in a way that made a smile pull at his lips. 

With the heavenly smell in the air and with the taste of both the cider and Clint on his lips, Bruce fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.


	3. Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Just as Bruce was sitting down with a mug of tea and his tablet, there was a knock at the door. Bruce paused, but before he could set down either item in his hands, the door opened—which could only mean one of two people was visiting him.

Sure enough, Clint rounded the corner with an excited grin on his face. “It snowed!” he proclaimed.

When Bruce just stared blankly at him, the bright smile on the archer’s face shifted into a look of exasperation. “Have you not noticed the blanket of white stuff out there today?” Clint asked, gesturing at the window with a loose wave of his arm.

“Not really,” Bruce admitted from his place on the sofa. “I only just got up.” He hadn’t even showered yet, but since he had taken one prior to last night’s team dinner, he didn’t feel all that gross. 

It was something like three-thirty in the afternoon now. He had passed out for something like seventeen hours after the team dinner, and he was finally feeling more like himself, if still a little sore. 

As Clint plopped himself down onto the cushion next to Bruce, the physicist glanced out of the nearest window to confirm that, yes, it had snowed overnight. From his spot on the sofa, he could see that some of the nearby buildings had snow piled on top of their roofs. The sky was a heavy grey, likely promising more snow was on the way.

“Yep,” Bruce said, biting back a smile as the man next to him threw an arm across the length of the back of the couch, letting his fingers trail lightly over Bruce’s shoulder. He leaned his head back slightly against Clint’s forearm, and smiled when Clint let his arm drift from the couch to relax across Bruce’s shoulders, drawing him just a little closer. “It snowed.”

He turned back to Clint, and the archer grinned. 

==

Somehow or another, Bruce found himself bundled up and standing in Central Park. It was late enough in the afternoon that the sun was already starting to go down, and a few short minutes later, it disappeared completely behind the buildings that made up Manhattan’s skyline. The air around him immediately grew colder.

Bruce shivered and shoved his hands into his pockets. Clint, ever perceptive as always, noticed and moved a little closer, their arms bumping slightly as he shared some body heat. 

Clint was hardly dressed for the weather. He had at least thrown on a coat, but it was hanging open, leaving his torso and neck exposed to the freezing air. Bruce had a coat on with the hood pulled up to protect his ears, and he burrowed his chin a little more into the scarf around his neck. 

If anyone should have been cold, it should have been Clint.

But the gesture made Bruce smile.

They walked through the park together, watching families with their kids wrapping up a snow day of fun to return home before it got dark. The lamp posts that lined the walkways of the park began to flicker on, and it gave the whole scene a feeling of purity and nostalgia, like it belonged more on a Christmas card than it did in reality.

The grey clouds overhead started to spit down a few more flakes, and when Bruce glanced over, he spotted a few melting snowflakes sitting in Clint’s hair, shining in the light from the lamp posts. The man looked breathtaking in the snow, and Bruce found himself staring, saving the image and committing it to memory.

Clint looked over at him, catching the doctor staring, and his lips twisted into an almost leering smirk. “Like what you see?” Clint asked, his tone both teasing and seductive.

Bruce felt himself blush, and when Clint’s grin brightened, he ducked his head with a soft laugh. As his head was bowed, Bruce pulled one hand from his coat pocket and reached for Clint. As his fingers tangled with the rough, strong fingers of the archer’s hand, he looked back up in time to watch Clint’s smile soften into something more sincere and warm.

When Clint met his eyes, Bruce couldn’t help but lean in to press a soft kiss to Clint’s lips. It was a brief thing, and as Bruce leaned back, he smiled and gave the hand in his a light squeeze. 

It began snowing in earnest, picking up in their rate of falling and the size of the flakes. The snowflakes glinted orange as they drifted past the lamp posts. The sound of the flakes hitting the snow-covered ground surrounded them in the otherwise fairly silent park. Snow crunched beneath their feet, leaving a trail of footprints that would vanish as the snow covered their tracks. 

It was peaceful, to simply take a walk around the park.

The moment was broken when a snowflake somehow managed to make it past his messy curls and his glasses to land straight in his eye. Bruce flinched, and Clint looked worried for all of a second before Bruce raised his free hand to wipe away the offending flake. The sound the archer made when he tried to stifle his snort of laughter made Bruce grin. 

Despite the cold seeping into his limbs and the stinging of the frigid air against his bare skin, the way Clint gently squeezed his hand made Bruce flush with warmth.

“We need to find a good place around here to go sledding,” Clint mused, sounding thoughtful.

“Sledding?” Bruce repeated as he slipped his glasses back on and promptly returned his free hand back to the warmth of his pocket.

Clint turned to look over at him. “Please tell me you’ve been sledding before,” he nearly pleaded.

“Of course I have,” Bruce replied. “It’s just been a long time.”

“All the more reason to go,” Clint said, lightly bumping shoulders with the other man.

Bruce smiled and returned the motion. “I’m sure there’s somewhere nearby, maybe outside the city limits.” 

They came to a stop under a tree near a lamp post. A mischievous little smile appeared on Clint’s face. “Do you think Thor’s ever been sledding?” he asked, delighting in the mental image.

Bruce could just imagine what the Asgardian would do with the prospect, and he felt himself grin. “I think I see a team activity in our future.”

“But that’s the future,” Clint said, his smile brightening as he lightly tugged Bruce a little closer to him. “Come have dinner with me.”

“Right now?” Bruce asked, even as he let himself be dragged in. When Clint’s eyes grew hopeful, Bruce bit back a smile. “Did you bring us out into the freezing cold just so you could ask me out to dinner?” he asked, his tone warm and playful.

“It’s not that cold,” Clint protested.

Bruce took a moment to look at the archer’s reddened nose and cheeks before he reached up and dusted the snow from Clint’s hair. “If you get sick because you didn’t dress adequately for the cold, I’m not taking care of you.”

“Liar,” Clint shot back, though the word was spoken with affection. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, like he was nervous. “So, would you like to have dinner with me?”

A smile appeared on Bruce’s face when Clint asked the question formally, hearing the anxious _Like a date_ as if the other man had actually said it. He gave the hand in his a little squeeze. “I’d love to,” he answered.

The smile that appeared on Clint’s face was a thing of beauty. The snow in his hair and the snow falling around them continued to glint in the lamp light as the night grew darker, but the sparkling snow around them was nothing compared to the glint of happiness that flashed through the archer’s eyes. 

Bruce reached up again to brush the snow being collected in Clint’s hair before he pulled the man’s hood up, pulling it down until only the man’s grinning lips could be seen. “I don’t want you getting sick,” Bruce said again, letting go of Clint’s hand at long last. 

As Bruce started zipping up the archer’s coat, Clint pushed back the hood of his garment so he could watch. “You know,” Clint began conversationally, “I could make a comment about you zipping up my clothes on our date instead of _un_ zipping them.”

The noise of the zipper paused as Bruce turned an unimpressed look up at Clint, but the goofy smile on the other man’s face cracked the veneer of Bruce’s expression and he grinned. He finished zipping up the coat and tugged on the hood until it covered Clint’s face again, grinning at the sound of the archer’s squawk of protest.

Bruce slipped his hand into Clint’s again as the archer fixed the hood of his coat again. “Where did you have in mind?” he asked.

Another bright smile twisted Clint’s mouth before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Bruce’s lips. “There’s a really great place nearby,” the archer said before he stepped back to start leading the way. “Best pizza and pasta in the city.”

Bruce fell into step with Clint as they made their way down the pathway, the snow crunching beneath their feet. A small gust of wind passed through, and Bruce stepped a little closer when he saw Clint shiver. 

When Clint glanced over, Bruce offered him a smile. The bright grin that was returned warmed him through and through.

They walked on, hand-in-hand, with only each other and the falling snow for company, and Bruce marveled at the tranquility that swept over him.


	4. Santa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Bruce was helping Clint make breakfast on the communal floor the following morning when the overhead lights suddenly dimmed. Bruce glanced over at the doorway to the kitchen just in time to see Tony and Steve sigh in near unison under the mistletoe. 

Clint immediately smirked. “Fallen into your own trap, there, Stark?” he asked. 

Tony shot Clint a look that made Bruce roll his lips to keep from smiling. “Not intentionally, Bird Feathers,” Tony shot back. He looked expectantly up at Steve, his expression a little leering. “Pucker up, soldier.”

With the face of a man who was simply fulfilling a necessary duty, Steve leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Tony’s forehead. Once the spotlight had disappeared and the lights had returned to normal, the soldier lightly patted the shorter man on the head before gently nudging further into the kitchen so he could get by.

Bruce managed to bite back his laughter, but Clint wasn’t so discrete. The offended and angry look on Tony’s face only made it worse, and Bruce plucked the bowl of scrambled eggs from the archer’s hands before he could drop it in his fit of laughter.

As Bruce walked by the pair of newcomers to put the bowl on the table, Tony huffed and glared at Steve. “You didn’t have to make it seem like such a chore to kiss me, asshole,” he grumbled, but there was a hint of humor in his voice.

Steve was making his way to the counter to help put the dishes on the table, but he paused to glance over his shoulder at the engineer. “You’re the one that made it mandatory,” he reminded the other man.

“He does have a point.”

At the sound of Natasha’s voice, the four men in the kitchen turned to look at the doorway. They watched the spy walk through the doorway before she glanced over her shoulder to watch Thor walk in behind her, who had pointedly stayed back so they could pass under the mistletoe unscathed.

Steve looked back at Tony. “Besides, if you hadn’t been rushing, we wouldn’t have been caught together.”

“Why were you rushing?” Bruce asked his lab partner as he watched Clint bring the last of the dishes over to the table.

As everyone sat down and starting filling their plates, Tony turned his focus toward the physicist. “Pepper invited Agent over for dinner tonight,” he finally answered.

Bruce paused mid-sip of his morning tea and looked at Tony. 

The implication was not lost on anyone. “We could order in,” Clint suggested. “Besides, isn’t it Tasha’s turn to take care of dinner?”

“Yeah,” Tony conceded, “but Coulson hasn’t ever had one of Bruce’s meals.”

“Tony,” Steve began with a sigh, “you can’t just expect Bruce to make something on a whim.”

“I don’t mind,” Bruce replied, setting down his cup of tea.

Next to him, Clint breathed out a fond little sigh. “Man, you’re too nice. You shouldn’t encourage this kind of behavior, or else he’ll believe that he’ll always get what he wants.”

“Um, excuse you,” Tony butted in, “but I _already_ always get what I want.” He looked away from the archer to focus on Bruce again, and his expression softened just a hair. “Sorry for not giving you much of a head’s up, though.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bruce assured him. “Is Coulson coming over for something in particular?”

“Pepper wouldn’t say,” Tony groused.

Without looking up from her plate, Natasha smirked. “What was that about always getting what you want?” she asked in a sweet tone.

Thor reached over and clapped a hand on Tony’s shoulder in solidarity as the engineer shot Natasha a cold look. 

Breakfast passed the same way any meal did when the entire team was there: loud, boisterous, and feeling more and more like a family gathering. As they were eating, Bruce thought about what he would be making for dinner, mentally creating a list of ingredients he knew he would need.

Once they were finished and Steve and Thor had volunteered to handle the dishes, Bruce turned to Clint. “Want to go with me to the store?” he asked.

A bright grin immediately appeared on the archer’s face. “You had to ask?” he prompted back, already pushing himself to his feet before pulling Bruce to his.

Bruce huffed an amused laugh at how eager the other man was. “Alright, let’s get going,” he said. “Hopefully that grocer down on 7th is open, what with the snow last night—”

He was cut short by the dimming of the lights, followed by the spotlight from overhead. He let out a brief sigh; he had walked straight into this. When he turned an unimpressed look over at the man standing under the spotlight with him, Clint gave him a charming smile and didn’t look the least bit abashed.

“You’re ridiculous,” Bruce said before he pressed a soft kiss to Clint’s smiling lips.

Clint grinned. “You love it,” he replied softly.

The sound of a chair scooting along the floor was the painful reminder that they weren’t alone in the room. Bruce jumped and his eyes shot back into the kitchen just in time to see Tony twist his body in his chair so he could look toward the sink. “Why couldn’t _you_ have kissed _me_ like that?” he asked Steve.

From his place in front of the sink, Steve continued to stare at Clint and Bruce. “I doubt Miss Potts would have approved of it,” he replied back to Tony, though his words were touched with a quiet wonder.

Realizing that everyone had seen them, Bruce tried to stop himself from blushing. He cleared his throat. “Maybe he can kiss you like Thor kissed me next time,” he suggested, relieved at how steady his voice was despite how warm his face felt.

Thor grinned proudly to himself as a look of confusion appeared on Steve’s face and Tony shuddered dramatically in his chair. 

“Or,” Clint began, “maybe you can just not rush around like a lunatic and put yourself in these kinds of situations in the future.”

With those parting words, Clint threw an arm around Bruce’s shoulders and proceeded to walk off toward the elevators. But Bruce couldn’t help but feel Natasha’s eyes on them until they disappeared around the doorway out of her line of sight.

When the elevator doors shut behind them and they started to lower toward Clint’s floor, the archer gave Bruce a light squeeze. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Clint said softly. 

“So you _did_ do that on purpose,” Bruce replied, letting his arm circle around the archer’s back so his hand was resting tentatively on the man’s hip. When he glanced over to see if the touch was welcome, he saw Clint’s smile brighten and was rewarded with another affectionate squeeze.

“It’s not a problem, is it?” Clint asked, growing serious for a moment.

As the elevator doors opened, they both stepped out onto Clint’s floor. “No,” Bruce answered truthfully, “though I was hoping to avoid what will likely be a pretty rough shovel talk from Natasha for at least a few days.”

Clint grinned again and pressed a hard kiss against Bruce’s temple before he stepped off to go grab his coat and boots. “I’m sure I’ll be getting one from Tony, so we’ll call it even.”

Bruce watched Clint shove his feet into his boots. “Yeah, but Tony isn’t as scary as Natasha,” he said. “Or lethal.”

“…point.”

==

“That was delicious, Dr. Banner,” Coulson said as the dishes were being cleared away.

The vegetarian korma dish that Bruce had put together for the meal was a hit, as anything he made for team dinners always seemed to be. They had been able to find all of the ingredients at the grocery store, which had thankfully been open despite the inclement weather, and with Clint’s assistance in chopping the vegetables, everything had come together smoothly.

Bruce gave a gracious nod. “Thank you,” he said politely.

They moved out to the living room, spreading out comfortably with cups of coffee or glasses of wine. Tony and Pepper sat comfortably close to one another on one loveseat while Coulson and Steve sat on the other. Thor claimed the armchair, leaving Natasha, Clint, and Bruce on the sofa with the archer in the middle. Bruce wasn’t quite ready to show their new relationship so openly yet, so there was a bit of space between himself and Clint. The archer thankfully hadn’t questioned it, and instead let his arm rest along the back of the couch. 

When Bruce felt the archer’s fingers begin to fiddle with the curls at the back of his neck, he smiled. He knew that Natasha was watching them again, but as Clint’s fingers began to lightly scratch the back of his head, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Finally, Coulson turned to Pepper. “Not that I don’t appreciate being invited over,” he began, “but you made it sound like you had something you wanted to discuss.”

Pepper smiled a little secretively before she passed Tony her wine glass and reached under the loveseat for something. 

A black hat with the Stark Industries logo was placed upon the coffee table in front of them, along with a pen and a sheet of paper. Tony immediately grinned with delight.

Pepper retrieved her glass of wine from Tony as she settled back against the couch cushions again. “I was thinking with us all actually being together for Christmas this year,” she began, “we could do something fun.”

“Honey, you’re the best,” Tony said, throwing an arm around her to drag her in so he could kiss her cheek. 

Thor eyed the hat upon the table curiously. “I’m afraid I do not quite understand,” he said.

The redheaded CEO smiled patiently over at the demigod. “I know Tony’s been walking you through some of the holiday traditions—”

“Some traditions more than others,” Clint cut in, turning a smirk over to Bruce as he lightly shook him.

As Bruce and Tony both grinned, Pepper went on. “This is something we call Secret Santa. If everyone is up for it, we each draw a name from the hat and have to get them a present for Christmas, but it has to be done in secret. On Christmas Eve or Christmas morning—whichever works better for everyone’s schedule—we’ll come back together and do the gift exchange, and you have to guess who your Secret Santa was.” She paused to look around at the room. “Is that something everyone would like to do?”

The eight of them looked around the room at each other for a moment before they nodded.

As Pepper began writing down their names on different bits of paper, Tony leaned in to try to steal some paper away. “Let’s add Rhodey to the mix.”

Pepper swatted his hands away and continued writing, folding each piece and tossing them into the hat. “Rhodey vowed never to participate in a Secret Santa thing with you again after what happened that one time,” she reminded him. 

“Oh yeah,” Tony replied, his face torn between grinning at the memory and pouting.

“He’ll be up for the Christmas party, though,” Pepper said, giving her boyfriend’s knee an affectionate pat. “I already made sure of that.”

“Christmas party?” Steve asked.

As Pepper continued working, Tony grinned over at the soldier. “Every year, Stark Industries throws a big Christmas party for its employees. It’s usually a really big how-to-do. Didn’t exactly have one two years ago, what with everything that happened, and while there was one last year, Pepper and I were out of the country, but we’ll actually be here for the one this year.” He glanced around the room. “I expect each of you to be there—you included, Agent.”

Coulson gave Tony a bland little smile that seemed more placating than anything. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” he replied.

Pepper finished folding up the last name and tossed it into the hat. “You can each bring someone, if you’d like,” she said as she began to mix up the pieces of paper. She smiled over at Thor. “Do you think Dr. Foster would like to come out?”

A bright smile lit up Thor’s face. “I believe she would be most honored to attend your festive gala,” he replied.

Natasha glanced in Steve’s direction. “Maybe Sam can fly in,” she suggested.

The thought made Steve smile. “I can certainly ask.”

Pepper took a sip of her wine before setting down the glass and rising to her feet, the hat in hand. “Now,” she began again, drawing the conversation back to the topic at hand, “the main point of this is to keep your identity a secret from your selected person. I think it would be fair to ask for help from another person if you think you need it, so long as everything is done discretely. Sound fair?”

Once she had received an affirmative response from everyone, she began to circle the room, letting each person draw a single name out of the hat. They each grabbed a piece of paper, none of them opening it until they all had one.

Pepper sat back down and grabbed the last name from the hat. “Alright,” she said.

Bruce felt Clint’s fingers finally leave his hair as they all opened up their folded piece of paper. There were thoughtful noises made around the room, but Bruce kept silent as he stared down at the name on his piece:

_Natasha_

He knew better than to peek over at her, given that she was one of SHIELD’s best spies, both before and after the HYDRA debacle, but he suddenly felt a little out of his league. He had no idea what she could possibly want. 

When fingers snaked their way back into his hair, Bruce relaxed again and leaned a little into the touch. Pepper said they could get help if they needed it, and he was dating Natasha’s best friend. 

With three weeks ‘til Christmas, Bruce knew he could come up with something.


	5. Carols

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Bruce looked up from his microscope to jot down some notes on a nearby pad of paper before he returned his eyes to the eyepiece lenses. As he was bringing the image back into focus, the sound of whistling pierced through his concentration. The tune was something recognizable, but the name of the song wouldn’t come to mind.

Feeling his brow furrow, Bruce looked up in time to see the lab doors open and Tony waltz in, whistling some cheerful and likely festive melody. “Bruce!” Tony greeted the other man when he had come to a good stopping point in his tune. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“Hardly surprising, considering you’ve made the trek down to the lab I always work in,” Bruce replied with a cheeky grin as he sat back. 

“Your sarcasm wounds me,” Tony shot back, but that didn’t stop him from walking straight up to the lab table Bruce was working up and hop up onto the counter. “I need your eyes,” he explained as his hands effortlessly brought up a holographic screen filled with numbers and formulas.

Bruce slipped his glasses back on and they instantly fell into a discussion that very few other people could understand. Tony walked him through the project he was working on, laying everything out for Bruce to analyze. There were a few areas that needed to be cleaned up, along with one error that had Tony groaning that he had missed it. Within the hour, they had a new test for JARVIS to run.

They let the new algorithms run, and Tony insisted on staying in Bruce’s lab until the results came back, which would last anywhere from ten minutes to four hours. Bruce wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stick around that long, what with it nearing noon and Clint’s promise that they were getting lunch today.

As JARVIS ran the corrected formulas and algorithms, Bruce returned his focus to the specimen on his microscope slide. Tony had moved to a different lab bench and was fiddling with his own work.

Bruce knew that JARVIS could alert Tony of these results from anywhere in the tower, which told him that Tony was lingering behind in his lab for another reason. 

The comfortable silence between them lasted for maybe five minutes before Tony began to make small talk about anything and everything, about some of the projects the teams in R&D are beginning, about the New Year’s Eve party he was planning, about some weird video he saw on Youtube. Bruce knew that Tony was hedging around the real topic he wanted to discuss, but he kept quiet.

Just as the engineer was beginning to describe the video in explicit detail, Bruce finally sighed. “Tony,” he said without looking away from his microscope.

The other man immediately fell quiet. Bruce waited, and it didn’t take long for the engineer to speak again. “So, you and Legolas, huh?”

“Yes,” Bruce replied tranquilly, still studying the specimen on the slide. He could almost picture the way Tony was probably nodding silently to himself at the confirmation. He waited for the other man to go on, since he knew that wouldn’t be all Tony had to say on the topic.

“He treating you right?” Tony finally asked.

Bruce huffed a laugh. “Yes, Mom.”

“Ew, don’t call me that,” Tony immediately replied in a way that told Bruce he was making a face. “If I were anyone in this weird pseudo-family thing we’ve got going on, I’m that cool uncle everyone claims to have.”

“If we’re going with the team being a weird pseudo-family thing, that _really_ makes me and Clint’s relationship weird,” Bruce joked back.

It got a bark of laughter from Tony, like Bruce knew it would, and the physicist finally looked away from his microscope to focus on his friend. “Yes,” he answered seriously, leaning away from his table so he was sitting comfortably on the stool, “he’s treating me right.”

Tony looked unnaturally serious as he continued to stare at his lab partner, as if to discern the honesty in that statement. Finally, he gave a nod. “Just making sure,” he replied.

“You don’t have to worry, Tony,” Bruce reminded him. “This is Clint.”

“That’s why I’m asking,” Tony rejoined with a smile to show that he was only teasing, but Bruce could tell on some level that he wasn’t.

It brought a smile to Bruce’s face; he was touched that Tony was so concerned about his well-being, but he knew that if their positions had been flipped, Bruce would have been concerned, too, and would likely be asking Tony these same questions. 

At Bruce’s smile, Tony hopped back up onto the table and let his legs kick like a child’s would. “So,” Tony began, “when exactly did this happen? Last I checked, you two were still making eyes at each other and Clint was making you blush all the time.”

“Not all the time,” Bruce protested.

“Oh please,” Tony scoffed with an eye-roll that belonged more on a teenager than a grown man. “I’d have been worried for your health if you were anyone else.” When Bruce laughed and ducked his head, Tony grinned. “So what finally gave you two disgusting lovebirds the push you both so obviously needed?”

“ _We’re_ the disgusting lovebirds?” Bruce repeated with an incredulous laugh.

The lab doors suddenly opened, admitting a whistling Hawkeye. “Who’s disgusting?” Clint asked as he walked into the room. He had Bruce’s coat and scarf slung over one of his arms and already had his own on, though it was unzipped for the moment.

Bruce couldn’t help but smile at the appearance of the other man, even though he knew it only made Tony’s argument more valid. His smile turned amused when he saw Tony sit up a little straighter to lend him a more serious and formidable air.

Ignoring Tony for the moment, Bruce glanced over at Clint. “We’re apparently the disgusting lovebirds in the tower,” he explained, welcoming the archer’s presence at his side.

Clint’s eyes immediately lit up and he smiled brightly, to where the handsome lines around his eyes crinkled in his mirth. “Oh?” he asked, slipping an arm around Bruce. He curled a little closer to the doctor and pressed his chin into Bruce’s shoulder. “Does that mean we get to be _really_ disgusting lovebirds, now that folks know?”

Clint pressed a big, sloppy kiss against Bruce’s cheek, surprising a laugh from Bruce. As the physicist playfully shoved his boyfriend away, Tony stared on in faux-horror.

“I didn’t think it could get worse,” Tony said as Clint and Bruce looked back at him. “I was wrong.”

A wicked grin crossed Clint’s face. “Stark, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he replied.

“Now _I’m_ a little scared,” Bruce commented, and then promptly smiled when the archer pressed a much neater kiss against his temple. 

Tony made a gagging motion before he looked back at them again. “Well, after months of watching you two dance around one another, I’m glad you guys finally figured it out, even if you’re going to be insufferable about it now.”

“You’ll live,” Clint replied before giving Bruce’s body a light squeeze. “Ready to grab some lunch?” he asked the physicist.

When Bruce glanced over at Tony, the engineer gave them a gesture of dismissal. “J can send me the results anywhere,” he said, confirming the reason as to why he had lingered behind. “I need to go see Pepper soon, anyway. You lovebirds enjoy your lunch.” He turned and started heading for the doorway.

Bruce let himself be dragged from his chair, listening as Clint described a few different places they could go that wouldn’t be too crowded at that time of day. They followed after Tony.

They paused when they suddenly found themselves under the spotlight and mistletoe in the doorway to the lab. A sound of confusion came from Tony as the other lights around the area dimmed. “I don’t remember hanging mistletoe right there,” the engineer mused as he turned around in time for the pair to share a quick kiss.

When Clint and Bruce broke apart and smiled at Tony, Clint pointed up at the plant—which was still hanging from one of his arrows. 

Tony immediately beamed and looked smugly proud of himself. “Well, well,” he said pompously. He turned an arrogant look toward Bruce. “I guess that answers my question, then, hmm?” he asked with a wink before he started walking off toward his lab on the other side of the floor.

Clint grinned again and led Bruce toward the elevator, whistling a cheerful rendition of “It Must Have Been the Mistletoe,” which prompted a bark of laughter from Tony’s retreating figure.

The elevator doors closed behind them and started to take them toward the lobby. Bruce’s laughter came to a quick stop when Clint—no longer whistling, but now humming—twisted the physicist around until they were standing nearly flush together. Bruce couldn’t help but press a kiss against the other man’s lips, nor could he help the way his arms moved to hold Clint a little closer when the humming was interspersed with laughter before the humming stopped altogether. Clint’s arms wrapped around him in a strong and loving hold as the kiss deepened with softly exhaled sighs of contentedness.

They had to break apart for air, both panting quietly. Bruce felt Clint’s lips press softly against his cheek, then his jaw, creeping slowly toward his neck. Had they been somewhere else, Bruce would have let the other man do just about anything to him, but they were getting close to the lobby.

Bruce let his fingers card through Clint’s hair and lightly tugged before Clint’s mouth could reach the sensitive skin of his neck and throat. Clint stopped, but not without a small sigh.

“Later,” Bruce promised, not at all surprised by how breathless he sounded.

When their eyes met, Clint’s heated gaze sent shivers through Bruce’s body in a way he hadn’t felt in a _very_ long time. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Clint replied, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Bruce’s lips.

Clint’s lips had barely touched Bruce’s before the soft, instrumental Christmas music coming from the speaker overhead abruptly changed. Barbara Streisand’s voice immediately greeted them, belting out the lyrics to “It Must Have Been the Mistletoe” in all of her glory.

The archer’s lips immediately twisted into a grin, and he let his forehead rest on Bruce’s shoulder as his own began to shake with laughter. 

Despite the smile of mirth on Bruce’s face, he sighed. “Tony’s never going to let us live this down.”

“That it was the mistletoe,” Clint asked without lifting his face from the safety of Bruce’s shoulder, “or that he had a helping hand in getting us together?”

Bruce’s groan prompted another fit of laughter from Clint.


	6. Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

“Alright, let’s call it a day,” Tony announced, stepping back from the lab table and planting his hands on his hips, admiring their work so far.

Bruce looked away from the screen they had been working on together and glanced at Tony. “Am I hearing you right?” he asked with a teasing smile.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he said, sounding indignant despite the smirk on his lips, “I promised to take Pep out for lunch today before some meetings we both need to be in.” He made a face at the word _meetings._ “So, I won’t be around this afternoon.”

“That’s fine,” Bruce replied, waving his friend off. “Enjoy your lunch.”

“But not the meetings?” Tony questioned, raising his eyebrows.

“I know you won’t,” the physicist remarked casually, “so there wouldn’t be any point in telling you to enjoy those.”

As he walked by, Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “You know me too well, Big Guy. Later.”

Bruce waved after Tony’s retreating figure and glanced back at their shared project. He contemplated continuing, but he glanced at the clock and saw it was after noon. Clint was on a mission with Natasha for the day, scheduled to get back tomorrow afternoon, and Bruce knew that if he didn’t stop to eat now, he would get distracted and wouldn’t eat until he got grumpy.

No one wanted that.

After asking JARVIS to save everything and shut down the lab equipment, Bruce wandered out of the laboratory, glancing idly up at the mistletoe still hanging from one of Clint’s arrows. His eyes went briefly over the different stickers lining the glass windows of the lab before he walked to the elevator. 

The communal floor was quiet that afternoon. With Tony off with Pepper, Thor out of state with Jane, Clint and Natasha on a mission, and Steve elsewhere, the floor felt empty. Bruce made his way to the kitchen and browsed through what was in the fridge before he started a pot of water on the stove to make some spaghetti. 

The water was just beginning to boil when he heard footsteps. He glanced over in time to see Steve wander into the kitchen.

The soldier spotted Bruce and gave him a bright smile. “Bruce,” he greeted the physicist. “I was beginning to think I was the only one around today.”

“Nope,” Bruce replied with a smile in return, “though it looks like it’s just you and me. Have you eaten yet?” When Steve shook his head, Bruce dumped extra pasta into the boiling water. “Hope you don’t mind spaghetti,” he said.

“You don’t have to, but thanks,” the captain said, looking both sheepish and grateful.

“It’s just as easy to put extra pasta in the water, Steve,” Bruce replied gently with a smile. “It’s no trouble at all. What have you been up to today?”

They fell into conversation as they waited for the pasta to finish cooking. As they were talking, Bruce pulled a glass jar of spaghetti sauce from the fridge and poured some into a small saucepan to heat. 

As they sat down to eat, Steve smiled over at the other man. “Thanks again, Bruce,” he said with the patented Captain America sincerity. “This looks great.”

Bruce shrugged. “Just a simple lunch,” he hedged. “Do you have plans for the rest of the day?” With Thor, Natasha, and Clint abroad and Tony stuck in meetings all afternoon, that left them alone. After what had happened with the fall of the old SHIELD and the Winter Soldier, Bruce didn’t like the idea of Steve being alone all afternoon, or possibly all evening and into the night. 

The soldier had come a long way from then, but still, there had been a darkness that had hung over him for a long time after. 

“I’m actually headed to DC this evening,” Steve replied, cutting into Bruce’s thoughts. 

Bruce smiled. “Visiting Sam?” he asked.

“He’s been insisting I meet his grandmother,” Steve confirmed with a growing smile. “There’s apparently this shindig going on tomorrow in the retirement community where she lives, and Sam wants me to come along.”

“That sounds nice,” Bruce commented. “Is it some kind of party?”

“I’m not really sure,” the soldier admitted, “but Sam’s really excited.”

It almost seemed like there was something Steve wasn’t saying, and Bruce watched him carefully as they continued to eat their lunch. “Do you need to bring something?” Bruce asked after carefully swallowing a mouthful of spaghetti. 

He knew he hit the nail on the head when Steve glanced at him, looking almost hesitant. “I was hoping to catch you today, actually,” Steve said, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I have to take in some kind of dessert, and…”

“Yes?” Bruce prompted, having a feeling he knew where this was going.

Steve sighed. “Sam asked if I could bring along that apple pie you made for that Independence Day party Tony threw,” he finally said. 

Bruce felt his eyebrows rise. “He remembers that?” he asked.

The smile that crossed Steve’s face was warm. “He raved about that pie for weeks, Bruce,” he disclosed. “Says it’s the best apple pie he’s ever had. His grandmother apparently took offense, so that’s why he wants me to bring along the pie.” He paused. “That is, if you have time. If not, I can make something myself. I don’t expect you to drop everything to make pies or whatever.”

“No, no,” Bruce replied, feeling a smile creep to his face, “it’s fine. I don’t know if that pie is better than his grandma’s, but I’d be more than happy to make you a few to take with you to your party.”

The relieved smile that appeared on Steve’s face made Bruce chuckle. “Thank you,” Steve said fervently. 

“It’s fine,” Bruce replied. “What time do you need to leave for your flight? We may need to run to the store—”

“I ran down there earlier,” Steve said. “I picked up a bunch of apples and some other ingredients that were listed for a different apple pie recipe that I found this morning.”

Bruce smiled. “Alright then,” he said. “Would you like to give me a hand?”

Steve’s smile was answer enough.

They finished their lunch and cleaned up before they got started. 

Cooking and baking were a type of meditation, Bruce felt. It was something he used to share with his mother, but after her death, he hadn’t ever gotten back into it. In the orphanages and different foster homes he had lived in before he had finally been placed with his aunt, his help had never been needed in the kitchen. Even with his aunt, she had never asked if he wanted to help, and Bruce had wanted to preserve the memory of his times in the kitchen with his Mom so he hadn’t wanted to offer his help. He hadn’t really ever gotten back into it.

Not until Betty.

Betty was a fairly decent cook—better than he had been at the time—but baking was a different story. Their first Christmas season together, they had decided to make a batch of cookies together, and when they had come out burnt and inedible, they had laughed before Betty had passed on the baking responsibilities to Bruce.

Since then, he had gotten back into cooking. It was a very helpful thing to be able to cook for himself while on the run, and while he never had the luxury to bake while he was a fugitive, it was still something he found thoroughly enjoyable.

Between the two of them, Steve and Bruce got all of the apples washed and peeled in no time. Bruce left Steve to chop the apples into manageable chunks while he went about getting the pie crusts ready.

As they were working, a comfortable hush fell over the pair. 

Bruce was just beginning to roll the dough for the crusts flat when Steve cleared his throat. When he glanced over, he saw the contemplative expression on the soldier’s face. “Everything alright?” he asked.

Steve glanced up from the apple he was slicing. He hesitated, peering up at the ceiling.

Bruce took the hint. “JARVIS, privacy mode, please.”

 _“Yes, doctor,”_ the AI replied.

As Steve looked back at Bruce, notably relieved, Bruce went on. “You alright?” he asked again.

“I, uh…” Steve hesitated another moment before he drew a breath. “You know that Secret Santa thing Pepper had us do?” he asked.

“Yes,” Bruce replied.

“I got Tony,” Steve said with a sigh.

Ah.

A knowing smile crossed Bruce’s face as he went back to rolling out the dough. A moment later, the sound of the knife hitting the chopping board returned to a regular cadence. “And you’re wondering what to get the man who has everything,” Bruce said.

“You’re practically his best friend,” Steve said, pausing to collect the chopped apple chunks and dumping them into a nearby bowl before moving on to chopping up the next apple. “Do you have any ideas on what he might like? Because I have been wracking my brain for the past day, and I can’t think of anything.”

As Bruce carefully cut away the excess dough from one of the pie pans, he thought about it. “I would say give him some kind of challenge in the lab,” he began, speaking his thoughts, “but, um…”

“I’m not a scientist,” Steve finished the thought with a rueful little smile. “Science is not one of my strengths.”

Bruce pondered over it some more as he rolled out the dough again to prepare the second pie dish. “Well, what _are_ some of your strengths?” he asked as an idea popped into his head.

The chopping paused again before resuming. 

The doctor let Steve think in peace as he went about getting the second pie dish prepared. He wasn’t sure what the criteria for Pepper’s rules on the Secret Santa thing were, but he wanted Steve to figure it out for himself.

Sure enough, Bruce smiled to himself when a thoughtful sound came from the super soldier. He went about beginning a mixture in a saucepan to pour over the pies. 

“I think I may have an idea,” Steve finally said as Bruce was adding flour into the melted butter, stirring until a paste formed.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Bruce replied tranquilly.

Steve brought over the large bowl of apple chunks and set it down on the counter. He looked down at Bruce, watching him stir the mixture in the saucepan. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Bruce smiled again. “I didn’t do anything,” he replied, though his voice carried a hint of mischievousness.

It prompted a soft laugh from Steve. “What next?” he asked.

“If you could keep stirring this for me,” Bruce said, handing off the spoon to Steve, “I can start measuring out the sugars.”

Before he got a chance to start packing the brown sugar into the ½ cup measuring utensil, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Steve glanced over as Bruce withdrew his phone and looked at the screen. He snorted a laugh when he saw it was a message from Clint, saying that he was bored and asking if Bruce was doing something more interesting.

Bruce typed back a quick reply: _Making apple pies with Steve._

The response was almost instantaneous: _omg there had better be some when I get back._

The soft laugh that escaped from him this time was much more affectionate. “It looks like we need to make another pie,” Bruce said as he texted back a message to Clint to say that there would be.

“Is that Clint?” Steve asked as Bruce slipped his phone back into his pocket, which vibrated with the archer’s answer.

“Yes,” Bruce replied as he went back to measuring the brown sugar again, ignoring the response from Clint for a moment. “I guess it’s a good thing I made too much pie crust,” he mused.

Steve kept stirring the flour-butter combination in the saucepan. Once the sugars had been added to the saucepan, along with a bit of water, Bruce went about getting a third pie pan ready. It shouldn’t have been surprising that there were so many available pie pans to use in the tower, but then again, it seemed like the kitchens had been equipped for anything and everything.

With the mixture set at a light simmer and another small saucepan preparing a second batch of the mixture, they began to pour the chunks of Granny Smith apples into the pie pans. The oven began to preheat once Bruce entered the temperature.

They both began to lattice the remaining dough over the mounds of apple, working on separate pies.

As they kept working, Steve peered over at Bruce. “So, you and Clint are…dating?” he asked.

Bruce vaguely wondered if each of his teammates would corner him to discuss this over the coming weeks. He almost wished he hadn’t been caught under the mistletoe with the archer when the rest of the team was around to see.

“Yes,” Bruce replied without looking away from his work. 

“How long?” Steve asked, returning his attention to the pie he was latticing. He sounded nothing more than curious.

“A few days,” Bruce answered honestly. 

“That’s it?”

Bruce glanced up at that question and Steve stared at him, looking almost surprised. “I mean…” Steve went on to explain himself, shrugging mildly. “You guys seem really comfortable with each other. I guess I assumed it had been going on longer and you just hadn’t told anyone.”

That response brought a smile to Bruce’s face as he looked back down at the apple pie he was working on, finishing up the lattice. “I guess it’s been leading up to this for a while now,” he admitted after another moment. 

When he glanced back over, he saw a warm smile on Steve’s face. “You guys are happy together?” he asked.

Bruce could feel some heat rise to his cheeks, prompting Steve’s smile to widen, though he was kind enough not to mention it. “Yes,” Bruce answered. “Yes, we’re very happy.”

“Then I’m happy for you both,” the soldier said with that level on sincerity that just made people want to make Captain America proud.

A smile crept to Bruce’s lips.

As Bruce began working on the second batch of the sugar/butter mixture, Steve latticed the last pie. The soldier stood back to watch Bruce carefully pour the sugar mixture from the saucepan over the prepared pies. The oven beeped, noting that the desired temperature had been reached. Bruce then sprinkled a bit of cinnamon atop each of the three pies before they went into the oven. 

“Thank you again for doing this, Bruce,” Steve said as they sat down at the kitchen table to wait for fifteen minutes to pass. The oven needed to be turned down to a lower temperature after that to let the pies finish baking for another 35 to 45 minutes.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Bruce replied. “Thanks for helping out.”

Steve smiled. “Sam will be very happy.”

“Have you told him about the Stark Industries Christmas party yet?” Bruce asked.

“I mentioned it to him yesterday, when he told me about this thing tomorrow,” Steve answered. “He said he would absolutely be here for it.”

Bruce smiled at that. “I’m glad to hear it.”

They continued to chat as they waited for the 15 minute timer to go off, and then continued to chat once Bruce had lowered the temperature to 350°F. Not long after, the heavenly scent of baking apples and cinnamon began to permeate the air. 

Steve broke off from their discussion on literature to take a deep breath. “Great day, Bruce, that smells amazing. Where did you learn to bake like this?”

A smile crossed Bruce’s face as he breathed in the warm scents floating through the air. “It’s something my Mom and I used to do, a long time ago.” He breathed in again, letting the heavenly aromas take him back to some of the happier moments in his childhood. “This is something she learned from her mother. The recipe’s been in the family for a while now.” 

When he looked back over, he found Steve staring at him with an almost unreadable expression on his face, save for the smile on his lips that filled the room with a warmth that almost equaled the lovely scents of cinnamon and apple. Bruce didn’t know how on earth to decipher such a look.

“I think Sam’s grandmother will have a real contender, then,” Steve finally replied, still smiling.

Once the pies had cooled, two of them were boxed up to make the trip to DC with Steve. Bruce helped carry the pies down to the car when it arrived to take him to Tony’s private jet. When Bruce raised an eyebrow at that, Steve looked a little sheepish and said that Tony had insisted.

“Thank you again, Bruce,” Steve said as the last of his luggage was put in the car and the pies were safely tucked inside. “I’ll let you know what Grandmother Wilson says tomorrow.”

“You are very welcome, Steve,” Bruce replied with a smile. “Enjoy yourself at the party, and tell Sam I say hi.”

“I will,” Steve said. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder. “Seriously, thank you,” he said again. “Will you be alright here by yourself? Tony mentioned being busy for the rest of the day.”

The soldier’s concern brought a smile to Bruce’s face. “I’ll be fine. Just go and have some fun for a change,” he said, lightly nudging the other man toward the open door of the car.

Steve grinned at him. “I’ll try,” he replied, slipping into the car. “I’ll be back sometime on Monday.”

“I’ll hold down the fort,” Bruce said dryly, which prompted a laugh from the captain. “Enjoy yourself.”

The car drove off and Bruce returned inside. As he was riding the elevator back up to the communal floor, he remembered the text message he had ignored from Clint. 

The elevator doors opened with a merry jingle bell sound as Bruce pulled his phone from his pocket, thumbing open the text message waiting to be read.

He promptly laughed.

 _Tasha says if I sabotage this mission for pie, she’ll be very upset,_ the message said.

Bruce sent back a reply: _Then finish your mission properly so you’re not stuck at SHIELD doing extra paperwork when you could be here._

The pair on the mission must have been on downtime, for the response was quick: _I’ll do it for you,_ followed by a heart emoji and a pair of puckered lips.

A snort of laughter escaped from the physicist. _And for pie_ , he replied.

But he followed the comment with a heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the recipe they used: http://fillmeupmom.com/my-grandmas-apple-pie/


	7. Christmas Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

“And Bruce will be coming with us,” Tony said.

It was Sunday afternoon. With Steve still in DC for the party with Sam, Thor in New Mexico, and Clint and Natasha still on their mission (due back that evening), only Bruce, Tony, and Pepper were left in the tower. Pepper had actually taken a day off, though she did continue to check her emails rather continuously—thus was the plight of the CEO. 

The three of them had met up in the penthouse for lunch, which were sandwiches from a shop nearby. The couple had been discussing their plans for the afternoon up until Tony announced that Bruce would be accompanying them.

“What?” Bruce replied, brow furrowing as he paused before taking a sip of his drink.

“To get a Christmas tree,” Tony added, as if that were an explanation.

When Bruce didn’t reply, Pepper set down her down drink to focus on him. “Do you have any other plans for the day that don’t include working in your lab? Or,” she added a heartbeat later, “that doesn’t involve your field of study?”

Bruce glanced over at Tony, who only offered a shrug. “I’ve been kicked out of my lab for the day,” the engineer explained. 

A smirk crossed Pepper’s face and she lightly bumped shoulders with him. “Don’t make it sound like spending a day off with me is such a hassle,” she said.

As Tony raised his hands in surrender, Pepper focused back on Bruce. “Don’t think I don’t know how late you stayed in your lab last night.”

It _had_ been a pretty late night, Bruce had to admit to himself, but it was either spending the time alone being productive, or spending the time alone just being…alone. The communal floor had been eerily quiet yesterday, and when Clint had stopped texting him, it only made the empty floor feel even emptier. He hadn’t realized he had become accustomed to company until he was by himself again.

“So,” Bruce said, bringing himself back to the present, “you want me to help you guys pick out a tree?”

Pepper smiled, and Tony grinned.

==

Apparently, when the people who had been hired to decorate the tower for the holidays had come over, they were told not to worry about getting a tree for the Avengers’ communal floor. 

“Why not?” Bruce asked as he obediently climbed into the back seat of the car: one of Tony’s larger ones so they could tie the tree down to the roof.

Pepper twisted around in the passenger seat to look back at him. “Tony insisted on giving the communal floor a _personal touch,”_ she replied as Tony slipped into the driver’s seat.

As the engineer turned the ignition, Bruce felt himself smirk. “More of a personal touch than he’s already given?” he asked.

“I haven’t seen, or heard, you or Clint complaining,” Tony shot back casually, which prompted a laugh from both Pepper and Bruce. He was quiet as he steered the vehicle toward the exit to the underground garage, but he went on after another moment. “It’s our first Christmas season together as a group,” he explained in a more serious tone. “I want it to be nice.”

Oh.

That first Christmas after the Chitauri attack, two years ago, Tony and Pepper had been in Malibu. That had been when the Mandarin had attacked and had blown the Malibu mansion into the Pacific Ocean. Bruce wasn’t exactly sure where the others had been two Christmases ago. Bruce himself had been on the other side of the planet.

Last Christmas, Pepper and Tony had taken a trip to Europe to enjoy the holidays. They had needed a little normalcy after last year. Steve had started living in Washington DC by that point, and Thor was in Asgard. He wasn’t entirely sure where Clint and Natasha had been. And Bruce had been in Chile last Christmas on a two-month trip before he headed back to New York in late-January. He had been getting that itch to run, and as a compromise with Tony, had agreed to leave the country for two months before making the decision as to whether it was a lifestyle he wanted to return to after having spent a few months in Stark Tower.

But since the fall of SHIELD, Tony had brought the group together, and they had stayed (for the most part) together since April. This would be the first year that everyone would be around.

It was hardly a wonder that Tony wanted it to be perfect.

With JARVIS’s assistance, they found a place that sold Christmas trees within half an hour. Since it was the weekend, there were lots of couples and families out and about today getting their Christmas trees before the pickings became slim. Tony managed to find a parking spot and they all piled out to start wandering around together. The crowd helped let them disappear, so hopefully no one would recognize or stop them.

As they meandered, it became clear to Bruce fairly early that Tony had never done this sort of thing before. He guessed that with the Stark family fortune, they had always had people to do this sort of thing in the past. Tony generally scanned the area to find the tops of trees that stuck out over the crowd and other trees and led the group there.

Bruce followed along silently. For as long as he remembered, he had only been around fake trees for the holidays. His family had one that had been stored in the attic all year around that wasn’t brought down until mid-December and was put away before the New Year. Even when he had been with Betty, they had had a small fake Christmas tree that her father had bought for her when she had first moved away from home to go to college. It had barely come up to Bruce’s waist, but it was all they needed—and all they really had room for.

It was probably best that Pepper had come along. She seemed to know what they needed and steered Tony away from the obnoxiously large trees that would never fit inside the living room. She had the eye of a decorator, so Bruce wisely let her make the decisions about each tree they stopped to look at.

“How about this one?” Pepper said, leading them to probably the twentieth tree they had seen that afternoon. 

“Nope,” Tony replied almost immediately.

A sigh escaped from Pepper, appearing in the form of a white puff before disappearing in the air. “What’s wrong with this one?” she asked with forced patience.

Tony gave it a critical look of scrutiny. “It’s not big enough,” he said.

“It’s plenty big,” Pepper protested. “The base will give it a few inches, and we still need to have room for the star to go on top.”

They both turned to Bruce. “What do you think?” they asked in near unison.

“Uh…” Bruce replied, standing back and glancing over the tree. “Well, it looks like it’ll fit alright,” he offered with a shrug.

“But I don’t want just _alright,”_ Tony complained. “It needs to be _perfect.”_

“It sounds like the holidays are already going to be nice, Tony,” Bruce returned, looking over at the other man. “You don’t need to get the biggest tree there is to show that you want the holidays to be special.” 

As the pair of them stared at him, Bruce glanced back at the tree in question. “Besides,” he went on, “this one is the greenest and healthiest one we’ve seen here, and it still smells like sap, so it’s probably still pretty fresh. I like this one.”

Tony and Pepper were quiet for a moment, just staring at him. Bruce started to think that maybe he had overstepped something when Tony turned back to Pepper. “Let’s get this one.”

As Tony turned on his heel to go find one of the assistants, Pepper heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said to Bruce.

Bruce just smiled quietly to himself.

==

“Now,” Tony mused out loud as they were pulling onto the street that led to the entrance to the parking garage, “how do we get it up to the communal floor?”

Pepper glanced over to see Tony’s eyes were skyward, no doubt eyeing the landing pad outside the penthouse. “No,” she said.

“No?” Tony asked, peering questioningly at her. “No what?”

“No,” Pepper said primly, “you are not getting your suit and flying this tree up there.”

Bruce bit back a smile when Tony made a whining noise. “We could use the freight elevator,” Bruce suggested.

“Yes,” Pepper agreed, even as Tony twisted in his seat to look at Bruce properly to say “No.”

“Eyes on the road, dear,” Pepper said, gently guiding Tony’s head until he was watching where he was driving again to ensure he didn’t miss the turn into the parking garage—and didn’t cause a major accident while doing it. “What’s wrong with the service elevator?”

“It’s not the elevator,” Tony replied, pulling into the parking garage and driving down the ramp. “It’s Sunday.”

“Yes…” Bruce said, drawing out the word.

Tony huffed. “None of the guys from facilities is here.”

Bruce let out a laugh. “Are you afraid of getting a little dirty, Tony?” he asked.

Tony shot him a look through the rear-view mirror. “Did you see those boys after they got the thing strapped down to the roof?” he asked. As he returned his attention to driving, he snorted a laugh. “A little…”

“It’s just a bit of sap,” Bruce scoffed. “Park close to the freight elevator,” he advised. “Make it easier for us.”

Tony grudgingly followed the instruction and pulled the car to a stop near the requested elevator. They all got out of the car and Pepper stood back as Bruce started unknotting the ties on the tree—helped with some gentle nudging from Tony a few moments later.

Once the tree was loose, the two of them managed to get it off of the roof of the car. “And to think,” Bruce grunted, “you wanted one even bigger than this.”

A spark of mischief appeared on Tony’s face. “Y’know,” he began, “Pep said I can’t carry it up in my suit, but I’m sure Big Green wouldn’t mind.”

Bruce turned a dull look toward him. “I’m not transforming to carry a Christmas tree upstairs.” He glanced around the car at Pepper, who was watching them with poorly hidden amusement writ across her features. “I think a couple of smart guys like us can get this up a few floors,” he said, turning a challenging look toward Tony.

The freight elevator was thankfully big enough to hold the Christmas tree and three adults. Once they had strong-armed the tree into the elevator and they were being lifted toward the communal floor, Tony set down the trunk of the tree. He opened and closed his hands into fists, a look of disgust on his face. 

“It’s not that bad,” Bruce said casually from where he was holding up his end of the tree. He knew he’d be covered in fir by the end of this, and he could already make out a few drops of sap that had somehow made it onto the lenses of his glasses, but he had certainly been covered in worse things. 

Much worse things.

They reached the communal floor and Tony picked the trunk of the tree back up. Pepper led the way, guiding them to where the holder for the tree was already set up. “I am so glad that elevator goes as high as it does,” Bruce commented as they carefully rounded another corner. “Dragging this thing up that many flights of stairs would have been a nightmare.”

“Big Green could have done it in no time,” Tony replied as he bumped into a piece of furniture.

Bruce huffed a laugh and readjusted his grip on the tree. “And that would have cost you the tree, whatever damages he did to your building, and whatever damages he did to Manhattan,” he pointed out.

“Oh nonsense,” Tony scoffed, pausing when he felt Pepper’s hands on his back to make him stop so she could move something out of the way. “Hulk would probably like this tree. It matches him.”

“Not quite the right shade,” Pepper piped in.

“I should hope not,” Bruce added as they started moving again. “It’d be a pretty sickly and radioactive tree otherwise.”

They finally reached the room where the tree would stand until after the holidays. “Just set it down,” Pepper said, and the two men gently put the tree down on the floor, both of them breathing a little harder than usual. “Now then,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking at the trunk of the tree by Tony’s feet, “we need to cut about an inch off of that trunk before we put it in water.”

Another smile appeared on Tony’s face, and Bruce shook his head. “Can’t use the lasers on your suit,” he said, and Tony promptly frowned. “It has to be a clean cut with no burns.”

“I’m sure you have a saw in the workshop,” Pepper said, giving Tony a light kiss on the cheek before turning him toward the regular elevators. “Be a dear and grab it for us, please.”

As they watched Tony walk off, Bruce glanced down at himself. He was covered in fir needles and sap, but at least he had been spared any scratches thanks to the sleeves of his coat. “I’m so glad he listens to you,” he said gratefully to Pepper once the elevator doors had shut.

Pepper turned a smile toward him. “You’re the one who talked him into getting this one,” she reminded him. “I should be thanking you. Thanks for coming with us. You were a big help.”

Bruce gave her a teasing smile. “You only needed me so you wouldn’t have to help Tony drag this thing inside,” he said.

“Just a perk,” she said with a shrug, and then lightly bumped shoulders with him. “Seriously, thank you.”

The sound of jingle bells rang lightly through the air, signaling that the elevator had returned. They glanced over, expecting to see Tony with a saw.

Natasha and Clint appeared as the doors opened, and Bruce immediately felt himself smile. They both looked tired, and they were still carrying their gear. At least they were out of uniform and looked freshly showered. They must have just gotten back.

Clint’s eyes lit up when he spotted Bruce standing there, but then he saw the Christmas tree lying at their feet. “What happened here?” he asked as he set down his stuff on the floor near one of the couches. 

“Stark’s holiday antics, no doubt,” Natasha replied, eyeing the tree and setting her stuff down next to Clint’s.

“He wanted this one picked out special,” Bruce added, smiling as Clint walked up to him. “Welcome back,” he said just a bit softer, accepting a brief kiss from the archer as he wrapped the scientist up in a hug. He could feel Pepper and Natasha’s eyes on them, but he focused on the man happily invading his space. “I’d hug back, but I’m covered in sap.”

“You were already pretty sappy,” Clint replied with a snarky grin, but he held Bruce a little tighter when he groaned at the bad joke. “You smell like pine. Were you wrestling with this thing?”

“More or less,” Bruce answered. 

More jingle bells rang through the air, and they all looked over as Tony stepped out of the elevator with a saw in hand. His eyes were immediately drawn to Clint and Bruce. “Where were you like fifteen minutes ago?” he asked. “We could have used your muscle.”

“It looks like you guys managed just fine,” Clint replied.

They watched Tony cut about an inch off of the end of the trunk before Tony and Bruce got the tree upright in the holder. Pepper added a bit of water into the bucket the tree was standing in, and they all stood back to admire the sight.

“Are there going to be decorations on it?” Clint asked after a few hushed moments had gone by.

“We thought we’d wait until everyone got back,” Pepper answered. “Make it a group thing.”

Clint grinned and wrapped an arm around Bruce, letting his hand settle on the man’s hip. “Sweet.” He gave Bruce’s body a light squeeze. “Speakin’ of sweet,” he said, an almost greedy look on his face.

Bruce laughed. “We’ll cut the pie tonight after dinner,” he said.

Tony and Pepper both perked up. “Wait,” Tony said, shooting Bruce a look, “you made pie?”


	8. Ornaments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

After dinner Monday night, Pepper gently cleared her throat, and everyone’s attention went to her. “With everyone back in the tower,” she began, glancing at Thor and Steve with a smile, “we thought it’d be nice if we all decorated the tree tonight. Is everyone up for it?”

It was great to have everyone back home again. Thor had gotten back just after noon with a bright smile and season’s greetings from Jane Foster and her crew in New Mexico. Before Thor had gotten settled, Tony had dragged him, Clint, and Bruce to one of the storage rooms in the basement of the tower to help carry up boxes that were labeled _X-Mas Tree Décor_ in Pepper’s elegant handwriting. Thor had been ecstatic about the addition of the tree to the communal floor and said that Jane had already explained the Christmas tree tradition to him.

Steve had gotten back in the early evening, just in time to sit down with the rest of the team for dinner. He had smiled when he saw the tree, and it only grew when he spotted the boxes next to the sofa.

Between the seven of them, they got everything cleaned up in the kitchen in record time. 

As they were walking into the living room, Tony smiled. “Alright, J, give us some music,” he said, and Christmas music began to fill the air at a soft volume.

“Okay,” the engineer went on, taking the lead as he stepped closer to the boxes, “these two boxes here—” He lightly nudged the boxes with the toe of his shoe. “—are the lights. The rest are ornaments. Let’s get the lights on first.”

Unfortunately, it seemed that whoever had packed the lights into the boxes last Christmas hadn’t done so neatly. Tony pulled out giant knots of the green-colored strands of lights, bright bulbs following along the lines and only adding to the knotted madness. The second box was no better.

“Well,” Pepper said, though she offered nothing to follow that up with, and Bruce bit back a smile.

Thor knelt down on the other side of the box and poked at the mass of wires in Tony’s hands. “I assume they are not meant to appear this way,” he commented.

“They just need to be untangled,” Bruce said before Tony could make some kind of scathing remark.

Clint immediately took a step back and raised his hands in submission. “Not it,” he said. When the others glanced his way, he glanced toward Natasha. “I don’t need to remind you about my relationship with Christmas lights.”

Bruce bit back an amused grin when Natasha gave him a look that could only be described as disgusted remembrance.

As Clint and Thor got into a discussion on the majestic tree before them, the other five divvied up into teams to tackle the knotted strands of lights. Steve was surprisingly good at untangling the lights, so he worked on his own and passed the freed strands to Clint and Thor to put on the tree once all the bulbs were confirmed to work. Pepper and Tony worked together, and Natasha teamed up with Bruce. 

She hadn’t cornered him yet about his relationship with Clint, so Bruce was almost nervous to work with her, but she gave him a smile and kept the conversation tame. He wondered if Clint had said something to her over the course of the mission, but decided that it didn’t really matter. 

Within half an hour, they had all of the lights untangled. As Clint and Thor hung up the last string of lights, Bruce got to sit back and watch the way the purple hoodie draped over Clint’s torso tightened around his shoulders and back when the archer had his arms over his head. When Clint caught him looking, he smirked and subtly flexed. 

Bruce somehow managed to keep from turning red, and when Natasha turned a pointed and thoroughly amused look toward the physicist, he simply smiled.

Once the tree had an assortment of lights shining from it, Tony flopped back on the couch, dragging Pepper down with him. “Well,” he said as he pulled one of the other boxes closer to set at the floor in front of himself and his girlfriend, “at least we won’t have to untangle _these.”_

From within the box, Tony pulled out a carton of circular ornaments, each different colors and sparkling with glitter.

Tony and Pepper remained on the sofa, handing ornaments to the other five Avengers to hang on the tree. 

It reminded Bruce of when he had done this as a child, running back and forth between his mother and their Christmas tree to eagerly decorate the bottom half of the tree—the only part of the tree he could reach. The memory made him smile, and he hung his next ornament one on of the lower branches.

The next carton Pepper and Tony pulled from the box contained oblong-shaped ornaments. Thor marveled over these.

“I did not know these came in such different shapes and sizes,” the Asgardian said, holding his ornament close to examine the odd shape of the thing. “When I was with my Lady Jane these days passed, we decorated a miniature tree with tiny baubles and the like. These are breathtaking.”

“Dr. Foster taught you about decorating the Christmas tree?” Steve asked.

“Aye, that she did,” Thor agreed as he finally hung the ornament on the tree with care. “Lady Darcy also told me a great many things about this festive season, such as the wonders of garland, men of bread and ginger, and caffeinated beverages with peppermint, though she did mourn the passing of the season of the spice of pumpkin.”

“Sounds like you learned quite a bit,” Tony said with a grin, handing the demigod another ornament to hand up.

“Verily,” Thor replied with a brilliant smile and returned to the tree. “I do rather enjoy the decorating of the tree. ‘Tis most relaxing.”

“It is,” Steve agreed. “Sam’s planning on doing something kind of like this for the veterans this weekend. They aren’t putting up a tree or anything, but we’ll be painting ornaments to take home.”

“That sounds lovely,” Pepper said, smiling. “I take it you’re planning on heading back to DC for it?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered. “Sam wants me there, and then he’ll be coming back with me that Tuesday and staying until after the Christmas party, if that’s alright.”

Tony waved his hand airily and gave the captain a grin. “The more, the merrier, I always say. You can hang your hand-painted ornament here, if you want.”

Steve glanced back at the tree, only half-covered with ornaments and glittering with the lights, and a smile crossed his face. “I might,” he replied softly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this sort of thing.”

As Natasha walked by, she gave the soldier a friendly tap on his shoulder. “Maybe you can talk Sam into bringing a few extra ornaments back and we can all have a painting session,” she suggested. The thought brought a warm and thoughtful expression to the soldier’s face.

The spy stood back and looked over the tree for a moment before she glanced over at Clint. “How come your Christmas tree never looked like this one?” she asked in a teasing manner.

“Cause I’m not a billionaire,” the archer replied.

Natasha snorted a soft laugh and returned her focus to the tree. “Nor did you have the patience to untangle your lights,” she mused. 

When the following silence became too much, she answered the unasked questions from the group. “Back when he still had his apartment, he had this weird fake Christmas tree he put up every year.”

“I got it on clearance years ago,” Clint protested in his own defense. “It served its purpose beautifully.”

“It wouldn’t stand up right,” Natasha reminded him bluntly. “You had to reinforce the base every year, and _then_ readjust it when you hung up your lump of Christmas lights onto the poor thing.”

Across the room, Tony barked a laugh. “So you had a poor-man’s Charlie Brown Christmas tree?” he asked.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Clint replied even as Natasha said “It was worse.”

As Bruce stifled his laughter, Clint grinned. “Well,” the archer said, buffing his nails against his sweatshirt in a grandiose manner, “I always managed to keep it standing. Even you were always impressed, Tasha.” He lightly elbowed her. “You gotta commend me for my ingenuity.”

“I commend you for actually putting that poor thing out of its misery when you moved here,” Natasha replied, prompting laughter from around the room.

Idle conversation pervaded the area as they emptied box after box of different styled ornaments. When they reached the end of the last big boxes, Tony stood up and picked up the last two boxes, which were markedly smaller than the others. Tony had insisted on carrying these up personally, so Bruce hadn’t gotten a chance to look at them until now. The writing on the box wasn’t Pepper’s familiar scrawl, and it didn’t look like Tony’s either. 

Tony sat down and put the box gently on the coffee table in front of himself and Pepper. “Now,” he said, his voice taking on a note of seriousness. “I want you all to be careful with these,” he warned. “Some of these have been in my family since before dear old Dad was born.” 

They all watched as he opened the box and pulled out a lump of tissue paper. He unwrapped the paper with care until he was delicately holding a small ornament shaped like a hound dog. 

He looped a small metal hook to it and carefully handed the antique ornament to Steve. “Do the honors, Cap,” he said.

Smiling in surprise, Steve gently took the ornament into his hands, studying the treasure with a smile on his face. He turned, his eyes roving over the tree until he spotted a lonesome branch and carefully affixed the ornament to the tree.

The ornaments from that last box ranged in styles and age. Pepper sat back and watched Tony hand out each trinket, providing a story for each. There was one that resembled a paperboy with a squashed-looking face that his grandfather had apparently been given. There was another that Tony remembered picking out with his mother when he was all of five years old. There were others he didn’t quite remember the history to, but he still provided commentary nonetheless.

Each of them handled the antiques with care, all of them surprisingly touched that Tony had trusted them to hang the ornaments at all. They each studied the ornament entrusted to them before they hung it securely onto a branch of the Christmas tree, Steve perhaps more than the others. It was, after all, a link to a friend he had lost.

Perhaps it was coincidence, but it seemed like the ornaments Tony gave to Steve to hang up all had histories that revolved around Howard Stark.

After the third ornament he gave to Steve with a story about his father, Tony handed one to Clint with some ridiculous story about how he had always thought the dancing elf looked a little more pig-like than man. 

As Tony, Clint, Pepper, and Thor were laughing, Bruce finished hanging his ornament and turned to glance at Steve. He found the soldier subtly watching Pepper and Tony on the sofa. Tony had his arm around Pepper and they looked so comfortable with one another, both of them smiling happily up at Clint and Thor.

Bruce looked back at Steve for a moment and then smiled to himself, knowing that the captain wouldn’t have any further trouble in figuring out a gift for Tony for their Secret Santa gift exchange.

He looked up again when he felt a hand gently touch the small of his back. Clint stepped up beside him, his sharp gaze moving over the tree until he found a good spot to hang his ornament—which honestly did look more like a pig in a green suit than a dancing elf. 

They finished hanging up the antique ornaments and then sat back to take in their work. JARVIS dimmed the room lights so they could watch the tree in all its decorated glory. The blinking white and multicolored lights illuminated the room, throwing different colors around the space in gorgeous appeal. It was a sight to behold.

Even after they had settled in to watch a movie for the evening, coffee and wine and other beverages disbursed between them, Bruce found himself watching the tree and not the movie. It had been a long time…a _really_ long time…since he had had the opportunity to just sit in front of a Christmas tree, watching as the dazzling lights blinked and shined their different colored hues upon the different colored ornaments that decorated its branches. It had been so long since he had gotten the chance to sit with friends to enjoy something like this.

The feeling of fingers gently carding through his hair brought him out of his thoughts. The fingers tugged lightly until Bruce smiled and scooted closer to close the space between himself and Clint. 

When he glanced over, he expected to see the archer looking at him, but Clint’s eyes were focused neither on him or the screen, but on the Christmas tree. There was something  
nostalgic on his face that told Bruce he was thinking of his time as a child, before the orphanage, before the carnival. There was something both peaceful and longing there, and Bruce felt a burst of empathy as he glanced back at the tree.

It must have been a long time…a _really_ long time…since Clint had had the opportunity to just sit in front of a Christmas tree with a group of friends, of people he cared for and who cared for him.

Bruce closed the distance between them and gently curled up against the warm body next to his. Clint blinked and looked over at the physicist, and Bruce smiled when he saw the archer’s lips quirk upward. The hand in his hair shifted until it rested upon his shoulder, pulling Bruce just a little closer.

They settled in together, alternatively watching the movie and the tree, watching the way the ornaments sparkled and shined with the blinking lights.


	9. Ice Skating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

“Do you…?” Bruce trailed off as Clint glanced up from his wrap to look at him. 

The temperature was dropping again, and there was another promise of a major snowstorm to come through in the following days. Bruce really wanted to take Clint out on a date, seeing as it had been almost a week since Clint had taken him out on an impromptu dinner in the snow, but he wanted it to happen before the weather got bad. 

They were out at lunch now—even before they had started dating, Clint had always grabbed him from the lab to get some lunch together. That tradition hadn’t stopped, and Bruce hoped it would continue for a long time.

Clint kept chewing his mouthful of his wrap and quirked an eyebrow when the other man trailed off mid-question.

Bruce glanced down at his own wrap and moved some chips around on his plate. He drew a breath and looked back at Clint, who was now watching him closely. “Do you have any plans tonight?” he finally asked.

The question was met with silence for a moment before a knowing grin crossed the archer’s face. It only grew as Bruce felt heat rise to his cheeks. 

“You asking me out?” Clint asked once he had swallowed his bite, teasing on one hand and completely serious on the other.

“Maybe,” Bruce replied in a similar tone as he smiled. “Are you free?”

The hint of mischief on the archer’s face disappeared, replaced with affectionate sincerity. “For you, I am,” he replied softly.

Bruce felt himself smile again. “Yeah?” he asked, relief and excitement flooding through him.

A playful scoffing noise escaped from Clint. “Of course yeah,” he answered, like there was never any other way to respond to the question. “I’m not about to turn down an evening with you. What’ve you got planned?”

“Dinner and then something after,” Bruce replied vaguely.

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Something?” he repeated, as if hoping for more of an explanation.

Bruce smiled secretively. “You’ll see.” He paused to fiddle with his chips again before he looked back at Clint. “Can I pick you up around 6?” he asked hesitantly.

==

The excited jitters only got worse as the afternoon progressed. Bruce was almost happy when Tony came up from the workshop to return to their project, but of course the engineer had picked up on the anxious energy coming off of him in waves. 

Tony had called his nerves cute, like Bruce was the nerdy teenager who just asked the homecoming queen out, though he followed the comment quickly with the correction from homecoming _queen_ to _king._ He then went on about how the analogy would work better if Clint was captain of the archery team, but how many high schools had archery as an extracurricular anyway, and so on and so forth.

Regardless of the popularity status in Tony’s scenario, Bruce did feel a little like a nerdy teenager. He hadn’t done this whole dating thing in a long time—not since Betty all those years ago, and he could clearly remember how nervous he had been back then.

But he was determined to do this. It had felt like, to that point, that Clint was the only active member of this relationship and that Bruce was just along for the ride. He wanted the other man to know that he was just as devoted to making this work as he was. 

So when five o’clock finally rolled around, Bruce shut down the lab for the night and went back to his floor to prepare for his date. 

An hour later, his stomach was flipping with nerves, but that didn’t stop him from knocking on Clint’s door promptly at six. He tried to soothe his anxiousness to the best of his abilities. _It’s Clint,_ he kept telling himself. He had no rational reason to be worried, but that did nothing to calm his nerves or make his core stop somersaulting.

But when Clint opened the door and greeted him with a bright smile, Bruce couldn’t help but smile back. _It’s Clint,_ he reminded himself again.

“You managed to get away from the lab on time,” Clint said with a playful grin, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against Bruce’s lips.

A contented hum of agreement sounded from Bruce, and when the kiss ended, he lifted his gaze to meet Clint’s eyes. “Just barely,” he joked back.

“Well, I’m glad my company beat out whatever it was you were working on,” Clint replied, grinning. He stepped back inside just enough to grab his coat before he stepped back into Bruce’s personal space, kissing him again. “So, are you going to tell me your secret plans for the evening?” he asked as they stepped inside the elevator.

Bruce smiled and shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Not yet,” he answered, “but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will,” Clint replied, lightly bumping shoulders with the physicist as he put his coat on. 

It was already dark outside when they reached the streets outside of the tower. The sky glowed an unnatural orange as the lights from Manhattan shone upon the low, heavy clouds that would more than likely deliver the winter storm the forecasters were predicting. Bruce waited until Clint had begrudgingly zipped up his coat and pulled his hood up to protect his neck and ears before Bruce gently took Clint’s hand in his and started to lead the way to the restaurant he had chosen.

They reached the restaurant without incident and were shown to a booth toward a corner of the building, away from a majority of the noise. It wasn’t a super classy place, but it was a little more upscale than where Clint usually took him for their lunches. They both placed their order—a burger for Clint and a pasta dish for Bruce—and then the waiter took the menus away.

Bruce promptly felt his anxiety come back as they sat quietly.

The sound of a soft chuckle made Bruce glance away from the rolling droplets of condensation moving down his glass of water and up to the man sitting across from him. 

Clint smiled at him. “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he said. When Bruce felt himself blush, the archer reached across the table and gently took hold of one of Bruce’s hands. “I hope I’m not that intimidating,” he teased, but there was a question hidden in his comment.

After meeting the archer’s warm eyes again, Bruce felt himself sigh and look to where their hands were joined on top of the table. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve done something like this,” he admitted softly. He smiled as Clint’s thumb gently started to move across Bruce’s knuckles.

“It’s only been like a week,” Clint replied with a teasing smile. As Bruce huffed a soft laugh, he went on. “Relax, it’s just me,” he murmured reassuringly. “You’re doing great so far.”

“We’ve walked three blocks and placed our dinner orders,” Bruce pointed out with a small smile.

“Well,” Clint said, shrugging lightly, “you didn’t fall and drag me down with you on our walk, and you didn’t pick that awful place over off of Broadway. I’d say you’re doing great so far.”

Bruce really hoped he wouldn’t drag Clint down with him on the second part of their evening, but the archer’s words helped him relax.

The meal went well, which shouldn’t have surprised Bruce. The food was delicious and they chatted about anything and everything. They declined a dessert, and once Bruce had paid for the meal, they were back outside in the cold. 

“I don’t know why I had never gone there before,” Clint commented as they walked along the sidewalk, their hands together. 

Bruce smiled. “That’s part of the reason why I picked it,” he replied. “Pepper and I have eaten there a few times a few months back. I had a feeling you’d like it.”

“And you were right,” the archer agreed, giving Bruce’s hand a light squeeze. 

Bruce led them toward Central Park, keeping their pace casual to let them digest a little before they got to the other half of their date. The lamp posts that lined the walkways through the park were on and cast their glow upon what remained of the snow from last week. 

When the sounds of Christmas music and laughter began to become audible, Clint’s brow furrowed. “Is there some kind of concert going on?” he asked as they approached the source of the music. 

“No,” Bruce replied, feeling his nerves begin to come back. They came to a pause when they finally got a good look at what was going on, and when Bruce risked a glance over at the other man, he was relieved to see a surprised smile on the archer’s face.

“Ice skating?” Clint said, watching the folks already in the ice rink gliding around, some with more grace than others. 

“Have you ever been?” Bruce asked.

“I actually haven’t,” the archer replied, still smiling. He grinned over at the physicist. “You have? I never would have guessed.”

Bruce shrugged and, now that he was sure that Clint was up for it, began to lead the way to the area where they could get their skates. “It’s been a very long time,” he said, “and I wasn’t very good back then. Can’t imagine I’ll be much better now.”

Clint grinned and bumped his shoulder against Bruce’s. “Then we can learn and relearn together,” he said.

They got their skates and retreated to a nearby bench to put them on. When they stood back up, Clint mastered his balance almost immediately and held Bruce until he had some semblance of his. They carefully made their way to the wall that lined the outside of the rink and watched some of the other skaters. The mechanics seemed simple enough, though Bruce knew well and good that he would certainly fall more than once tonight.

When one Christmas song faded away into another more upbeat song, Clint beamed over at him. “Ready to give it a shot?” he asked.

“Not in the least,” Bruce replied, though he followed the other man out onto the ice. 

They stayed an arm’s length away from the wall at first, getting a feel for the ice and their skates as they clung to the wall. He remembered what not to do from the first time he had learned, but even with that previous knowledge, Clint was the first to let go of the wall and glide slowly about without assistance and without falling.

“You’re a natural,” Bruce said with a warm smile even as he nearly lost his balance and tightened his hold on the wall.

Clint turned a smile toward him before he glanced over at a seven year old girl who was skating happily in front of them. “Now we just need to do like her and actually start moving our legs,” he commented. 

They both watched the child shift her weight to one leg as she gracefully kicked off the ice with her other, propelling her seamlessly forward.

“Totally doable,” Clint said, and gave it a try.

He must have misjudged how much weight to shift or something, for the leg he was kicking with slid out from underneath him and he promptly fell over. 

Had it not been for the laugh that escaped from the archer after the _oof_ he made when he landed, Bruce would have been concerned. But the look of surprise on Clint’s face made Bruce laugh. 

“Okay,” Clint corrected himself with a grin, “maybe not _quite_ doable yet.” He raised a hand toward Bruce and gave him a pleading look, complete with a poor man’s puppy-dog eyes. 

The expression only made Bruce laugh a little harder, but once he was sure his grip on the wall was solid, he reached down and grabbed Clint’s hand. The archer slid to the wall in front of Bruce, where Clint pulled himself back up to his feet. 

When Clint mastered his balance again, he twisted to glance back at Bruce, who was still smiling. “Alright, Mr. Genius, what did I do wrong?”

“I think there’s a _doctor_ in there somewhere,” Bruce replied with a teasing smile. Before Clint could reply, he went on. “I think you pushed off the ice too strongly. Try it a bit more gently.”

Clint quirked an eyebrow at him. “Care to demonstrate?” he asked, and while his tone did take on a hint of challenge, there was still a warm affection underlying the words that made Bruce’s whole body feel lighter.

Bruce considered his grip on the wall and the open space of ice in front of them. “Okay,” he said, carefully removing his hand from the wall. He bent his knees just slightly and, keeping one hand above the wall lest he lose his balance, he shifted his weight to one leg and pushed off with the blade on his other foot. 

He was propelled forward without incident.

Bruce let himself glide until he crashed into the wall, nearly falling over. He gripped the railing and glanced back a few feet toward Clint, who was laughing and pulling himself along the wall to reach him.

“Nice stop,” the archer remarked, grinning widely, when he arrived at the physicist’s side.

Bruce almost got lost in the happiness shimmering in Clint’s eyes, but he caught himself and grinned back. “I just didn’t want to leave you behind,” he fibbed, prompting another laugh from the other man.

“Alright, let me try again,” Clint said. Careful not to push off too hard on the ice this time, he glided forward smoothly. 

Bruce beamed with pride as the archer managed another stroke without falling over. When Clint didn’t take another stroke, instead just gliding toward the wall, Bruce skated forward until he caught up.

Not knowing how to stop, they both glided to the wall and caught themselves before they fell over. Clint grinned over at Bruce. “Better?”

“Much better,” Bruce agreed.

The song playing over the speakers changed again to something slower and without a singer. It turned out to be an instrumental of “Winter Wonderland.” Bruce watched some of the couples skating around them pair up to glide together over the ice. 

Oh…this was supposed to be the _couple’s song._

Bruce glanced over to see Clint watching a man and a woman skate by hand-in-hand. 

He gathered his courage. “You think you’re ready to skate without the wall?” he asked softly.

Clint gazed back at him to answer, and his response faded from his lips when he saw Bruce’s outstretched hand. Their eyes met for a long moment before a tender smile appeared on Clint’s face. “We’re going to fall,” he said even as he laced his fingers with Bruce’s.

The feeling of their hands coming together made Bruce smile. “That’s half of learning,” he replied, letting go of the wall and letting the skates glide him further away from the railing.

Bruce let out a sound of surprise when Clint pulled him in. Their ice skates bumped together as Bruce crashed against the archer, and his laugh was interrupted by a soft kiss pressed to his lips.

It was just a quick kiss, since they were out in public, but it held a promise of something more that Bruce reminded himself to revisit once they returned to the tower. 

They broke apart and their eyes met again, both of them grinning like fools and relishing the feel of where their bodies connected. Clint gave the hand in his a light squeeze and released his hold on the wall.

As the instrumental continued to play peacefully over the skating rink, Bruce and Clint managed to make a full circuit without falling once. Perhaps they were better when they skated together than separately. There were skaters around them that skated leisurely around the circuit, and then there were the kids who raced each other and dodged other skaters. They were not nearly as good as a majority of the people on the ice, but they didn’t need to be experts at ice skating to just enjoy each other’s company.

They were content to just skate lazy laps around the rink, no matter the tempo of the song that played over the speakers. Their hands remained ensnared as they skated and chatted together. The clouds overhead let a few snowflakes fall, just flurries for the moment, but they sparkled in the lighting of the ice rink in a dazzling display.

About an hour later, when the person manning the music system announced that there was a competition coming up, they decided to call it a night. They returned their skates and returned to solid ground once again. Their hands rejoined and they walked through the park toward the tower.

By the time they got back to the building, the snow had started to pick up. They ducked inside and made their way to the elevator, dusting snowflakes from their hair as they went.

“That was a lot of fun,” Clint said once the doors were shut and they were on their way up. He looked over at Bruce and smiled, giving the hand in his another squeeze. “I had a great time tonight.”

Bruce returned the smile. “Me too,” he replied. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Clint turned to crowd into his space. “Thank you,” the archer said before he leaned in.

Bruce welcomed the kiss, responding in kind. He let Clint pull him in and let his hands slip under the archer’s coat to run along the warmer fabric of the shirt he was wearing beneath his coat. 

They reluctantly broke apart when the elevator gave a soft jingle bell sound. Bruce broke the kiss to glance at which floor they had stopped at as Clint continued to pepper light, teasing kisses along his jaw. 

Heat settled in his stomach when he saw that they had stopped at his floor. He grinned and let one of his hands escape from under Clint’s coat to tangle in the archer’s hair. “Would you like to come in?” he asked, marveling at how breathless and happy he sounded.

The lips on his jaw paused for a moment, and Clint withdrew just far enough to meet Bruce’s gaze, heat and excitement in his eyes. “Yeah?” he asked.

Bruce smiled again before pulling Clint back to his lips. “Yeah,” he whispered against his mouth before they kissed again.


	10. Hot Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

_“Dr. Banner?”_

The sound of JARVIS’s voice made Bruce shoot awake with a start and a sharp intake of air. Heart pounding, his eyes darted around the room. It was still dark, meaning it was the middle of the night, and he couldn’t pick up on a hint of danger in his surroundings.

Very slowly, he started to relax.

A grumble came from behind him and a warm body curled up along his back moved a little closer. The muscular arm draped over his side and pulled Bruce back against the firm chest behind him, and Bruce felt himself smile when he felt Clint snuggle his face against his upper back and fall back asleep.

After they had returned from the ice rink last night, they had settled in to watch a movie together. They hadn’t even made it to the fifteen minute mark before they were curled up with one another, trading lazy kisses well into the night. Bruce invited Clint to stay for the night once it had gotten late, and the smile that had appeared on the archer’s face had done funny things to Bruce’s stomach. 

It didn’t surprise him that they had closed the small amount of space between them while they had been asleep.

Once Clint settled and was breathing deeply again, Bruce felt himself begin to return to slumber as well, but his eyes opened again at the sound of JARVIS. _“Doctor?”_

Bruce sighed. “Yeah?” he replied softly.

 _“I am terribly sorry to awaken you,”_ the AI explained, _“but there has been a call for the team to assemble.”_

That woke Bruce up in a flash. “Okay,” he said. He twisted in Clint’s arms, not even bothering to bite back a fond smile as Clint grumbled again, until they were face to face. “Clint,” he whispered. 

When Clint showed no sign that he had heard, Bruce remembered that he had taken his hearing aids out before they had climbed into bed.

Another sigh escaped from Bruce. “JARVIS, please turn up the lights to 15%,” he said. As the lights slowly came up to a dim setting that allowed just enough light to see the man in bed next to him, Bruce carefully ran his hand along Clint’s shoulder, gently shaking. “Clint,” he said a little louder.

Between the light and the touch, Clint woke up just enough to shoot him a grumpy glare. “Go ba’ t’ sleep,” he said in a low rumbling voice before he closed his eyes again and buried his face into the fabric over Bruce’s chest.

Bruce huffed a laugh. If he had the chance to, Bruce would have liked nothing more than to go back to sleep, but the team was needed. He carefully pushed on Clint’s shoulder until there was some space between them again. 

As Clint opened his eyes to give him another sleepy and grumpy look, Bruce held his hands out in front of him, like he was admitting defeat. Waggling his fingers a little, he let his hands move until they were flat, as if they had landed on some invisible table. When Clint blinked, Bruce did it again, mouthing the word _assemble_ as he did it. 

The sleepy quality in Clint’s eyes instantly vanished when he recognized the sign. It had been one of the first signs the team had learned when they had started working more frequently together. Clint had taught it to everyone, just in case a call ever came in and he didn’t have his aids in to hear it.

Clint groaned and rolled over on to his back, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Aw, man,” he sighed. He glanced back over at Bruce, who was still lying on his side, watching him. “I vote we continue this after whatever this is,” he said.

Bruce gave him an apologetic smile and a nod before they both finally extracted themselves from bed.

By some strange twist of fate, they actually weren’t the last ones to the conference room for the briefing. That would have been awkward. Still, Natasha watched them enter the room together and raised an eyebrow at the archer. Clint sent her back a grin that made her lips faintly quirk, but then Tony came into the room, and the team was assembled.

The screen at the head of the table lit up and Coulson’s face appeared. “We have a situation,” he said, jumping straight to business.

From the sound of it, it was some kind of mission that required stealth, precision, and two people to work together to override some kind of tech that the enemy had. “Stark,” Coulson went on once he had laid out the basic facts, “we need you on the scene to infiltrate their systems. Dr. Banner, we need you to stay in the tower to take a closer look at the data, since I’m sure Stark will be busy.”

Bruce shrugged. “The Other Guy isn’t much for stealth, anyway,” he said. 

No one disagreed, and the briefing went on. 

Right before Coulson signed off, he looked at the other five Avengers. “The quinjet will arrive to your location in roughly seven minutes. Dress warmly, as it’s still snowing pretty hard at the site.”

==

Once the team had suited up and left on the jet, Bruce returned to his floor for a quick shower and then made some coffee, as it was only three in the morning. He took a look outside and saw that the snowflakes that had been flurries a few hours ago were now heavy and falling rapidly. 

He shivered with sympathy and felt bad that he would get to stay warm and dry while the others went out into this mess.

The mission itself was a success. In the hours it took to complete their mission, they managed to shut down the threat with no casualties. The enemy turned out to be a major portion of a criminal ring that was tampering with stolen tech from major developers, and with the data Bruce lifted from their computer systems while the rest of the team was fighting, the new SHIELD would be able to locate the rest of the ring and shut it down.

But once the fighting was over and the general excitement had passed, Bruce got to guiltily listen to Tony and Clint complain about how cold it was and ask why these guys couldn’t have been located somewhere warm, like Bermuda or something. It sounded like all of them were shivering—even Thor.

Bruce muted his line to the rest of his team and called Coulson.

After a brief conversation, Bruce opened the line back up to his team. “Alright, I just talked to Coulson,” he said, interrupting Tony mid-sentence. “He said he’ll push back the debriefing until tonight. The pilot is going to bring you guys straight back to the tower so you can warm up and rest.”

“Bruce, I love you,” Tony said fervently.

“Dibs, man,” Clint’s voice came, sounding both amused and possessive.

Bruce felt himself grin and blush slightly as Thor laughed uproariously in the background. Steve’s voice came through next. “Thank you, Bruce,” he said, and just listening to him made Bruce feel cold. “We’ll be back within the hour.”

As Bruce signed off from the frequency, the sound of the lab doors opening made him twist on his stool. Pepper stepped into the lab with two cups of coffee in her hands. “How are they?” she asked.

Bruce accepted one of the steaming mugs with a heartfelt _thank you._ “Cold,” he replied, “but they’re all in one piece. They’re on their way back now, should be here in an hour or so.” He took a sip of the coffee. “JARVIS, are there cans of soup available somewhere in the tower?” he asked, setting the cup down on his desk.

 _“There are cans of chicken noodle soup located on the communal floor, doctor,”_ the AI replied.

Nodding to himself, Bruce stood up and stretched, feeling the stiff muscles in his shoulders and back pulled tight from sitting hunched at his desk for an extended period of time. He glanced over at Pepper. “I’m going to put some soup on. Have you eaten lunch yet?”

Pepper smiled, looking unsurprised. “Bruce, it’s like three-thirty in the afternoon,” she said. 

Had it really been that long? Bruce glanced over at one of the screens nearby to confirm the time. “Huh,” was his only response.

The redhead gave him another smile and lightly patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll join you all for dinner,” she corrected him. 

He smiled a little ruefully. “Dinner it is, then,” he agreed. 

==

About ten minutes before the team was due back, Bruce put a different pot on the stove. The soup was still heating up in the giant soup pot on one of the back burners. He gathered the materials he needed and went about measuring out sugar, cocoa powder, cups of milk, and miniature marshmallows. They all went into the pot to simmer.

Bruce was still stirring the heating mixture, watching the marshmallows melt into the hot chocolate, when the sound of an arriving quinjet reached his ears. He turned to glance out the windows, grimacing when he saw that the snow was still coming down heavily. 

He gave the soup another few deep stirs and put the lid on it, turning the heat down to a low simmer. Once the hot chocolate was a complete liquid, the marshmallows having melted completely, he added a small hint of vanilla to the mix.

The elevator arrived with the cheerful sound of jingle bells, which was immediately followed by heavy footsteps.

When he heard Tony say “Oh my god, what is that heavenly aroma,” Bruce smiled quietly to himself and started ladling the steaming drink into awaiting mugs. 

“Soup won’t be ready for another twenty minutes,” Bruce called back. As the team walked into the kitchen, he finished ladling out the drinks and turned to look over at them. 

They all looked miserable. There were still fat snowflakes clinging to their hair and uniforms. Tony didn’t look as rough as the rest of them, probably thanks to his armor, but he must have had taken his suit off for the jet ride back to the tower, for he was covered in snow like the rest of them. Natasha’s black suit gleamed under the lights, meaning that it hadn’t dried out yet. Thor’s normally regal head of hair hung damply and clung to the armor on his shoulders. There was snow still caked to Steve’s boots and Bruce could tell by how tight the soldier’s jaw was clenched that he was keeping his teeth from chattering.

And poor Clint was sniffling and rubbing his hands together to warm his fingers up. Bruce wanted to go to him and just wrap him up in every blanket he could find.

Bruce looked them all over for a second longer before he held up two of the mugs. “I have hot chocolate,” he said.

The pathetic gratitude that shone on each of their faces made Bruce’s heart melt a little. 

He started to hand out the cups. “Now,” he said as he handed Clint his, letting his fingers linger over the archer’s and feeling an ache go through him at how cold they were, “take these and go get out of your wet uniforms.” He handed out the rest of the mugs. “Go shower and put on something warm. Soup and gr—”

He paused when one of them made an almost obscene noise around a sip of the hot chocolate. His eyes went to Tony, but to his surprise, it was Thor who swallowed and beamed at him. 

“What have you done to this drink to make it more heavenly than I remember?” he asked. 

Before Bruce could think of an answer, the others tried their drinks with the same outcomes. 

“Jesus,” Clint said, staring at Bruce. “Is this the hot chocolate you were talking about?” His hands were wrapped around the mug, letting the heat of the ceramic warm his chilled fingers.

“Yes, but—”

Tony’s eyes shot to the archer. “I am so jealous of you right now,” he said, completely straight-faced. 

As Clint gave Tony a smug look that made Bruce’s face heat up, Pepper walked into the room. “You’re jealous of whom, dearest?” she asked. She took in the general state of each of them and stood a little straighter, meaning she was taking charge. “Go shower and change,” she said to them, making it sound more like an order than a request. “You now have…” She paused to glance over at Bruce.

Bruce shrugged and made an iffy motion with his hand. “Fifteen-ish,” he provided.

Pepper looked back at the other Avengers. “You now have fifteen minutes before the soup and grilled cheese sandwiches are ready.”

With a deadline to meet, the rest of the team scurried off. Bruce handed her one of the last two mugs of hot chocolate he had ladled out. “Thanks,” he said. 

Pepper accepted the mug with a smile. “Did your mother henning get interrupted?” she asked.

Bruce laughed and returned to the soup pot, lifting the lid to stir its contents again. “I think they got excited about the hot chocolate,” he answered.

Another smile touched his lips when he heard Pepper make a soft sound of delighted surprise as she sipped her drink. “Can’t imagine why,” she replied distractedly before she took another sip.

Once the lid was back on the pot, Bruce picked up the last of the mugs and took a sip. The melted marshmallows gave the drink a frothy but creamy texture that wasn’t common in the types of hot chocolate that came in an instant packet. Bruce had made it that first time by accident. He had been up for close to two days straight working on a paper and had run out of coffee. In his delirious state, he had dumped a good portion of marshmallows into the pot of heating milk instead of into his and Betty’s mugs, but the results had been surprisingly delicious. He had been tweaking the recipe over the years until he had gotten it just right.

With one final sip, Bruce set aside his mug to help Pepper make the grilled cheese sandwiches.

==

As each member of the team came back to the communal floor kitchen, they were given a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. They dropped off their empty mugs in the sink and took their dinner to the table before digging in. After showering and changing into dry clothes, they started to look more like themselves again.

Clint was the last of the team to make it back. He was wearing pajama bottoms and his purple hoodie, and his hair was in a state of disarray. 

When Bruce offered him a bowl of soup, he was rewarded with a quick peck on the lips. 

Bruce smiled and forced himself not to glance over at the rest of the team at the table. “Feeling better?” he asked softly.

“Much,” Clint replied with a bright smile. He held up his empty mug. “You are making this again,” he said.

“Yes, he is,” Natasha agreed from the table without looking away from her soup. 

Bruce felt another smile cross his face and he glanced back at Clint. “Only if you make more of that cider.” He handed Clint his bowl and nudged him toward Pepper, who handed him a grilled cheese fresh off the pan.

With the rest of the team taken care of, Pepper shooed Bruce to the table with a bowl and plate of his own before joining them. 

The six of the Avengers ate heartily, as they hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening and hadn’t had a chance to grab something at three in the morning when the call had come. As they finished eating, exhaustion began to return to them. It had been a very busy day.

Bruce whipped up another, smaller batch of his hot chocolate and ladled out a cup for everyone as they headed back to bed to catch a few hours of sleep before Coulson’s call for the debriefing came later that night. 

He and Clint were the last ones to leave the kitchen, each with a mug of the steaming beverage in hand. Clint was already half asleep, but he sipped at his drink with a contented smile on his face.

The archer hummed happily as he let the last of his hot chocolate settle on his tongue before swallowing. “This is the best,” he said, grinning drowsily over at Bruce.

“I’m glad you like it,” Bruce replied as they stepped into the elevator. Before he could hesitantly ask which floor he wanted, Clint reached over and pushed the button for Bruce’s floor.

Bruce couldn’t help but smile to himself.

JARVIS helpfully tinted the windows to dim the light to Bruce’s bedroom, but Bruce was fairly certain that they could both fall asleep in broad daylight at that point. Clint pulled his hearing aids from his ears and pulled his hoodie off, leaving him in a muscle shirt that showed off the powerful muscles of his arms. He slipped under the covers, curling up against Bruce without the hesitation to be close they had both shown the night before.

They curled up against one another, sleep tugging at them both.

As Bruce was lightly trailing his fingers along Clint’s forearm, he felt the archer’s head lift just enough to place a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for the sinfully good hot chocolate and the soup and everything,” the archer said softly.

Another smile appeared on Bruce’s face and he twisted enough so Clint could see his mouth. But instead of saying anything, he pressed a proper kiss against Clint’s lips, a shiver running down his spine when Clint sighed blissfully into the kiss. 

They shared long, lazy kisses, settled in the warmth of each other’s embraces and in the cocoon of warmth beneath the covers. Clint’s mouth still tasted like hot chocolate, and Bruce couldn’t remember a time he had been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy Hot Chocolate recipe! --> http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/fluffy-hot-chocolate
> 
> Seriously, this hot chocolate is THE BEST.


	11. Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Bruce woke up jittery.

During the debriefing last night, Bruce got to hear more of the details from the mission that the rest of the team had gone on yesterday. From the sound of it, it really did seem like they could have used the Hulk. And the more that became obvious, the more restless his alter ego became in the back of his mind.

That restless energy transferred into Bruce, and though it pained him to, he had to decline Clint’s invitation to head back to his room that night. It sent an ache through him to see the disappointment on the archer’s face, but Clint said he understood. They had parted ways with a lingering heated kiss, and while Clint went off to his room to get some more sleep, Bruce returned to his to try to calm down.

It was apparent after he woke up the following morning, just before the sunrise, that it hadn’t worked.

Bruce sighed, resigning himself to the only solution left.

==

As soon as JARVIS told him that Clint had finally woken up, Bruce fixed a carafe of coffee and took it upstairs to Clint’s floor. He knocked on the door and was greeted by Clint, toweling his damp hair in a muscle shirt and slacks.

Clint smiled brightly at the sight of his visitor, though his smile turned into a smirk when he caught Bruce eyeing his arms. “Good morning,” he said, low and seductive. 

But then he caught sight of the carafe in Bruce’s hand, and the seduction act quickly ended. “Coffee,” he said with longing in his voice. “Get in here.” He pulled Bruce into his suite, shut the door, and led the way to the kitchen to grab some mugs. 

As they were both sitting at the dining table, next to one another and armed with steaming mugs of coffee, Bruce glanced over at him. “I’m sorry,” he said softly with regret.

Clint glanced over at him mid-sip, but he didn’t reply until he had taken a full sip of his drink and set down his mug. “Nothing to worry about, Bruce,” he replied with a gentle smile. “I’m not going to pressure you into something you’re not ready for.”

Bruce sighed and drummed his fingers anxiously along the handle of his mug. “It wasn’t that,” he replied. “It was just going to be _sleeping._ I mean, I appreciate that you’re willing to wait, don’t get me wrong. I’m willing to wait, too, if that’s what you want. I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, even if it _does_ just mean sleeping in the same bed as me, but—”

“How much of this coffee have you already had?” Clint interrupted with a smile that was equal parts amused and concerned.

Bruce sighed again and abandoned his cup to scrub at his eyes. Everything felt tight, like he didn’t fit in his body properly. He drew a deep breath and tried again, hopefully without the rambling bit this time. “I really wanted to spend the night with you, believe me, but Hulk is really anxious to spend some time out,” he finally said. “The debriefing yesterday made him restless, and I thought I could calm him down last night, but he’s still eager to get out. I didn’t want to keep you up with this.”

Immediately, Clint looked almost relieved that the rejection last night hadn’t had anything to do with him. Immediately following the relief was a determined focus, which seemed totally at odds with his next comment. “Remember when I mentioned sledding last week?” 

When Bruce shot him a confused look, he smiled. 

==

One uncomfortable car ride later, Bruce followed Clint out of the parked car and into the bitter cold. It had been a forty minute drive, made longer by the snow covering the back roads Clint had taken once they were out of the city limits. He had pulled over on the side of one such back road, consulted the GPS on his phone, and then given Bruce a bright smile. 

After grabbing a bag that contained some towels and two thermoses of Clint’s hot cider, they trekked out into the woods that lined the country road. 

Just being out in the fresh air helped to soothe his nerves a little, as well as the physical activity. They walked side by side, hands in their pockets to protect them from the chill. The snow was deep, so they had to take their time walking through the woods toward wherever it was that Clint was leading them.

“It should be just up ahead,” Clint said, as if reading his mind. 

“And what, exactly, is this _it_ you speak of?” Bruce asked.

Clint turned a blinding smile his way. “I managed to find the _perfect_ spot,” he answered. “It’s secluded, there’s a good sized hill for sledding, and there’s this open field without as many trees around. It’s—Ah, we’re here!”

They crested a small hill and came to a stop at the top, looking over the scene that looked like it came straight off a Christmas card. At the bottom of the little hill and beyond a few more trees was a small creek they could easily jump over, and beyond that was a wide expanse of open field, completely covered in a thick blanket of snow. Beyond the field was a hill that did, in fact, look great for sledding. It was secluded, it was peaceful…

“It’s perfect,” Bruce breathed as they looked over the area. He glanced over at Clint. “How on earth did you find this place?”

“Google,” Clint replied with a grin. “I’ve been searching Google Maps for a while now and came across this little treasure.” He looked back out at the field and put his hands on his hips, looking rightly proud of himself. “We’ll have to get everyone else out here the next time it snows.” He took hold of Bruce’s hand and dragged him down the hill so they could explore. 

They hopped over the half-frozen creek and stepped out into the field. Bruce was almost hesitant to mar the perfect covering of snow, but he followed Clint with a smile on his face.

As they started trudging across the field to get a better look at the hill, Clint glanced over at Bruce. “So, Jade Jaws is restless?” he asked.

Bruce gave a nod. “I think when we saw that our help would have been really beneficial in yesterday’s mission, he started getting antsy.”

Clint gave a nod that was almost sagely. “That makes sense,” he replied. “I know I can get like that when I have to sit by and let someone else do something that I’m fully capable of.” He came to a pause in the middle of the field, and Bruce stopped to watch him. The archer turned a smile toward him. “Nothing out here for him to break,” he commented softly.

Cautious gratitude flowed through the physicist’s body, and he really wanted to smother the other man in kisses. “You wouldn’t mind?” he asked after a moment.

A smile touched Clint’s lips before he leaned in to press a soft kiss against the corner of Bruce’s mouth. “That’s why we’re out here,” he replied once he had drawn back. “I mean, not that I don’t enjoy walking through a winter wonderland with you, but if Hulk needs some playtime, I’m absolutely okay with that.”

Before Clint could leave his personal space, Bruce wrapped him up in a hug. Clint reciprocated instantly, and Bruce kissed him lightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, so glad the other man understood what he needed.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Clint replied as he gave Bruce’s body a light squeeze. “You can thank me once you get warmed up afterward. You’re going to be _freezing.”_

“Better than feeling like my skin is too tight,” Bruce said.

They stepped away from each other and Bruce pulled off his scarf. He roped it around Clint’s neck and tucked the ends into the archer’s coat. Each article of clothing came off after that, leaving Bruce feeling colder and colder with every passing second. Clint’s eyes followed his movements, his gaze moving over Bruce’s bared body in a way that was both heated and sympathetic. 

By the time Bruce toed off his boots and socks, leaving him standing barefoot in the snow with only his pants on, he was shivering violently. He glanced over at Clint. “See you soon,” he managed to say through chattering teeth, and then he was gone to the haze of green.

==

Clint stood back and watched his boyfriend’s body turn green and ripple with growing muscle until it was Hulk standing in front of him. The transformation sounded as uncomfortable as it always did, and Clint managed to keep from wincing in sympathy when he saw pain flash across Bruce’s changing face.

He remained where he was as the transformation ended, allowing Hulk to gather his bearings and take stock of their surroundings. 

Hulk drew a deep breath in though his nose, and Clint watched the massive green chest expand with the intake of air. When Hulk let out the breath through his mouth, it came out as a great white puff that disappeared a moment later.

Green eyes finally opened and he looked around, sniffing the air curiously. Maybe he caught a whiff of Clint’s scent, or he felt the archer’s eyes on him, but he turned and focused on the much smaller man standing nearby. 

The two of them stared at one another for a moment before Clint gave the big guy a smile. “How are you doing, Jade Jaws?” he asked before he knelt down to stuff Bruce’s things into the bag he had set down.

Hulk snorted at the nickname and glanced around at his surroundings once more. His head tipped downward and he looked at his feet. He lifted his left foot and placed it on an untouched area of snow, watching as his foot sunk down into the snow with a satisfying crunching sound. 

“Cold,” Hulk finally answered. 

As Hulk drew his foot out of the snow to admire his massive footprint, Clint smiled. “Yeah, it’s pretty cold out here,” he agreed, “what with all the snow and everything.”

“Hulk not like snow,” the green giant grumbled before he looked back at Clint. “No fight?”

“No fight today,” Clint answered. “And how can you not like snow? Snow is awesome. There’s so much you can do with this stuff. Observe.” 

With his boyfriend’s alter ego watching, Clint crouched down and scooped up a handful of the snow. It was a good, wet snow, not like the powdery stuff that was useless for outdoor play. He packed his handfuls of snow together and formed a snowball. “See?” Clint said, holding up the ball of snow for Hulk to look at. He then twisted and hurled the snowball back toward the woods they had come from. The ball sailed through the air and landed harmlessly in the snow long before it could reach the woods.

“You try,” Clint said with an encouraging grin once he turned to face Hulk again.

With the size of Hulk’s hands, the goliath managed to create a massive snowball that was so tightly packed that made Clint eternally thankful he hadn’t demonstrated his throw by tossing his snowball against the Hulk’s chest. 

Hulk’s finished snowball was a little lumpy, but it was larger than Clint’s head. When the big guy turned to Clint for approval, the archer grinned. “You got it,” Clint replied. He pointed toward the woods. “Now go on and throw it.”

Green eyes went to the woods, and Hulk drew back his arm. With a grunt, he threw the snowball.

The massive ball shot out of the giant’s hand and made a bee-line toward the trees, whistling through the air over the snowy meadow until it struck a tree, crashing clean through the trunk.

Clint and Hulk both winced when they heard the splintering of wood, and they watched the tree Hulk’s snowball had hit tilt and begin to fall. Birds flew out of the crashing tree and trees nearby, crying out as their caws mingled with the sound of wood and leaves and, finally, with the powerful _thud_ of the tree landing on the snow covered ground.

There was a long moment in which the birds either flew off or landed in a different tree, but they finally settled down and silence fell over the area again.

“Maybe we should step away from snowballs for a while,” Clint finally said, and Hulk snorted a laugh.

Clint recalled Bruce saying that Hulk had felt restless, so he made up a game to get the big guy moving around to burn off some extra energy without doing any more harm to any trees. They chased each other around the meadow, raced to the hill that Clint had wanted to inspect for sledding purposes, and then challenged Hulk to seeing how great a distance the big guy could make between one footprint with another. 

Hulk gladly stepped up to the challenge, leaping from one foot to the other in jumps that sent him twenty to thirty feet across the meadow. Clint yelled that he was cheating—and then promptly told him to jump as far as he could from one end of the meadow to the other, just to see how far he could jump.

As Hulk leapt across the meadow in one great bounding jump, Clint remained where he was. His eyes followed the giant man through the sky until he landed on his feet close to the edge of the woods, causing some snow on the branches of nearby trees to fall in clumps to the ground. 

Hulk hopped out of his landing spot and turned to look at Clint in the distance. “Measure,” he called, his voice carrying easily across the meadow and scaring off a few more birds.

Clint looked at the vast distance between them. “No,” Clint called back, cupping his hands around his mouth to help his voice carry. “You’re the best jumper there is. Don’t need a number to confirm it.”

He swore he heard the snort that Hulk let out, and then Hulk was airborne again.

The big guy landed with a massive _thud_ of crunching snow and weight suddenly hitting the ground hard enough to make it feel like the earth underfoot was shaking, and Clint fell backwards with a surprised shout, landing in the deep snow.

He stayed there, staring up at the light grey sky, until Hulk appeared in his field of vision. Clint was touched by the worry he saw on the big guy’s face, and promptly grinned once Hulk realized he was fine and gave him an unimpressed look.

Clint let his arms flop out and land in the snow by his sides and lazily went about making a snow angel. Hulk eyed him curiously as the archer’s arms and legs moved against the snow, his legs spreading and closing while his arms rose and fell until he was no longer fighting against the snow.

Once he was satisfied, he lifted his arms and reached toward Hulk. When the big guy simply stared at him, Clint let his hands open and close much like a toddler would when he wanted something. “Give me a hand, big guy,” he said.

Hulk obligingly offered Clint his right hand. Clint wrapped his arms around the massive appendage and Hulk lifted him with ease out of the snow, gently setting the archer down next to him.

When Clint turned to look at his snow angel, he beamed. “You’re the man,” he said, lightly chuffing Hulk’s forearm with his hand as he admired his masterpiece. “Mine always have this handprint somewhere when I try to get myself out of the hole.”

“Snow hole?” Hulk asked, still looking down at Clint’s imprint in the snow in confusion.

“Snow _angel,”_ Clint corrected him. “See? There’s the angel’s head, and there are its wings, and there’s its robes.”

Hulk tilted his head and looked at the snow angel again. 

“They’re easy to make,” Clint told the big guy. “Watch.”

He let himself fall back into a different untouched portion of snow and proceeded to make another snow angel. This time when he reached for Hulk, the goliath didn’t need the instruction to lift him out of the snow.

Once he had his feet under him again, Clint turned and beamed at his two perfect snow angels, completely lacking in boot or handprints. “That’s how you make a snow angel. Give it a shot.”

Hulk eyed him dubiously, but he went when Clint pushed him toward a different area of the meadow without massive footprints everywhere. He laid down on his back in the snow and stayed still for a long moment, staring up at the sky.

“Cold,” Hulk grumbled before turning an unexcited look toward Clint.

The archer didn’t bother biting back his grin. “So move your arms and legs around, get your blood moving.” He made the motions with his arms to demonstrate. “C’mon, Green Bean, make a snow angel for me.”

Hulk snorted again, but finally splayed his arms out and moved them effortlessly through the snow, doing the same with his legs. It took him no time at all to finish pushing the snow aside to create the mold, and he came to a stop, letting his hands rest against his abdomen in a way that reminded Clint of Bruce.

The giant green man then glanced back at Clint and reached out one hand. When Clint didn’t move, Hulk made the same grabby motion with his hand that Clint had done, opening and closing his fingers until the archer laughed. 

Clint grabbed Hulk’s hand with both of his, like he was actually about to pull Hulk out of the snow. But then Hulk pulled him down, and with a squawk of surprise, he landed bodily against Hulk’s bare chest.

Before he could get up, Hulk let his hands rest on his abdomen again, effectively trapping Clint between his hands and his body. Clint made the token effort to escape the hold, but quickly gave up. With a sigh, he let himself flop back down against Hulk’s chest, smirking when he both heard and felt Hulk let out a satisfied and/or smug rumble. 

The green expanse of skin beneath him was delightfully warm despite the freezing temperature, and he shifted his head until he had one cheek pressed against one of Hulk’s massive pectoral muscles. “You’re very warm,” he said.

“Hulk still cold,” Hulk replied, but made no effort to extract himself from the snow.

“But are you feeling better?” Clint asked without lifting his head.

He felt Hulk drum a gentle pattern with his fingers along Clint’s body, so gentle that Clint couldn’t help but melt a little more against the warm expanse beneath him. 

“Yes,” Hulk said at last. 

“I’m glad,” Clint replied. “Bruce wanted to let you out so you would feel better.”

“Glad,” Hulk murmured in a low rumble, either a repetition of Clint’s sentiment or in agreement. 

They lay there in silence for a long time, neither of them making an effort to get up. 

Finally, Hulk drew a deeper breath to speak. “Cupid glad?” he asked. “Cupid…happy?”

“Happy?” Clint repeated without lifting his head from Hulk’s chest. 

“Happy with Banner?” Hulk clarified.

That made Clint look up. When their eyes met, he saw that Hulk’s normally hard green eyes were soft with curiosity. “Does Bruce make me happy?” Clint asked. When Hulk nodded, the archer felt a smile cross his face, and he lightly patted his hand against the green skin beneath his fingers. “I’m very happy with Bruce,” he answered. He paused for a moment. “Are you okay with what we’re doing?” he asked.

Hulk snorted and let his head rest back in the snow again, returning his vision to the sky overhead. “Hulk like this,” he finally responded. “This nice.”

Clint felt himself grin. “Hulk is a cuddler,” he teased in a fond voice even as he nestled his face back against the green chest. 

“Cupid cuddler,” Hulk shot back, but from the tone in his voice, Clint knew without looking that he was grinning. 

With another intake of air, Hulk drew his arms more securely around Clint’s body and curled his body until his weight was supported solely on his shoulders. With an impressive kick, Hulk got himself out of his snow angel.

He landed in a crouched position, hunched with Clint cradled against his body. Hulk carefully set the archer down on his feet before they both glanced back at Hulk’s snow angel. 

The shape in the snow was massive, but it was definitely in the shape of an angel, and the sight brought a huge smile to Clint’s face. “You did it!” he proclaimed happily. “You made your very own snow angel.” He wrapped his arms around Hulk’s neck and gave him a hug. 

Hulk let out a soft rumbling laugh and lightly patted Clint’s back. “Hulk made snow monster,” he replied.

Clint drew back. “No, no, see? There’s the head, the wings, and the robes—just like mine.”

“Too big,” Hulk replied, glancing between his snow angel and one of the two Clint had made earlier. 

The archer studied Hulk’s creation for another moment. “Alright, then, yours is a super-snow angel. That just means it’s even bigger and even better.” He stepped around the figure in the snow. “Watch, I’ll even give yours a halo.” He traced a ring in the snow over the angel’s head and stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect.”

Hulk snorted a laugh, and then turned to one of Clint’s snow angels and pressed his finger into the snow. Instead of creating a ring in the snow, he just pressed his finger into the snow and removed it, leaving a deep hole just above the head of the angel.

“Halo for Cupid angel,” Hulk replied, sounding proud of himself. “Now perfect.”

Clint rather thought his angel looked like it had grown a second head or the first had some sort of abnormal growth, but he still grinned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone before he returned to Hulk’s side and clambered up the giant’s back. “Stand up for me, Big Guy,” he said, patting at the goliath’s damp and cold hair. “I want pictures.”

Hulk obligingly stood up, giving Clint an impressive vantage point to take a picture of their work. He snapped a few photos of each snow angel, showing them to Hulk as he took them. He stood effortlessly on the goliath’s shoulders, and when he was done, he crouched down until he was perched on one massive shoulder. 

“You ready to call it a day, Big Guy?” he asked. 

“Hulk still cold,” the giant said, which was answer enough. 

With Clint still riding on his shoulder, Hulk turned and walked over to Clint’s bag to pick it up. He started walking back toward the woods, leaving a trail of massive footprints. Clint smirked and took a picture of the footprints on his phone before he let his hand rest in Hulk’s hair. “You don’t have to make the walk back to the car, y’know,” he said.

Hulk snorted. “Cupid gonna carry Banner?” he asked.

Clint let out a laugh and ruffled the big guy’s hair. “Alright, alright, smartass,” he teased. He felt the shoulder he was sitting on shake lightly with Hulk’s laughter. “That’s actually really nice of you to do, Hulk,” Clint went on seriously. “Thank you.”

“Cupid and Banner let Hulk out to play,” Hulk reminded him with a shrug. “Hulk nice back.”

A hush fell between them as Hulk carefully dodged around trees, ducking below branches to keep Clint from falling off his shoulder. Clint let his arm wrap around Hulk’s neck in a loose embrace, and he smiled when Hulk lifted his free hand to pat Clint’s legs.

They got back to the edge of the forest next to the old back road. Clint instructed Hulk to hang back for a moment as he hopped down. He glanced in both directions, looking and listening for any cars that might have been coming. When nothing jumped out, Clint waved Hulk to follow him to their parked car nearby. 

Hulk obediently crouched down when Clint raised his arms up toward his face, and Clint wrapped his arms around the goliath’s thick neck again. Hulk carefully returned the embrace. “Thank you, Cupid,” the giant said.

“You are very welcome, Hulk,” Clint replied, “but you should be thanking Bruce. He’s the one that wanted to give you some time to yourself. Did you have fun?”

“Had fun,” Hulk answered with a nod. He pulled back and met Clint’s eyes. “But Hulk cold. Go back to sleep now.”

“You earned it, Green Bean,” Clint said. “I’ll see if we can do this again sometime. Maybe we can make more snow angels soon.”

Hulk grinned. “Cupid and Hulk angels,” he mused. “Fun.”

He drew back, and Clint expected to see the big guy start to shrink down, but a moment passed before Hulk poked Clint in the chest. “Banner happy,” Hulk told him. He poked Clint’s chest again and gave him a stern look. “Don’t make Banner sad, or Hulk get angry.”

Internally, Clint had to grin. It was the simplest shovel talk he had ever received from anyone. Externally, however, that meaty finger pressing against Clint’s chest was the size of Clint’s forearm. The threat was certainly there.

“I’m going to do my best to keep him happy, Hulk,” Clint replied.

Hulk took another moment to scrutinize him with harsh green eyes before he finally nodded. “Banner now,” Hulk said. He then grinned and poked Clint again, hard enough to knock the archer off his feet and into the snow. “Cupid and Banner be happy.”

And with that, Clint watched Hulk’s massive body begin to shrink down into the familiar shape of a very familiar sight. He got to his feet and unlocked the car, pulling open the passenger side door before he rushed to Bruce’s side in time to catch him before he collapsed into the snow. 

Clint helped Bruce get dressed again, helping him step out of his wet and stretched pants and into the dry sweats he had packed earlier. Once he was dressed, he started the car to turn on the heater and coaxed Bruce to drink some of the cider he had packed in the thermos. 

It wasn’t until they were back on the road, heading back to the tower, that Bruce roused enough energy to force his eyes open to glance out the windshield. Clint glanced over in time to see Bruce’s bleary eyes turn toward him. 

“…was he good?” Bruce asked softly, sounding like he could have slept for ages.

Clint gave him a radiant grin and reached over to let his hand rest against Bruce’s knee. “He was great,” he replied reassuringly. “We made snow angels. I took pictures.”

There was a moment before Bruce huffed a heartfelt, if exhausted laugh. “You would,” he murmured. He let his hand come to a rest on Clint’s hand. “Thank you.”

Clint smiled again before he carefully took hold of the physicist’s hand on his. He brought the hand up to his lips and pressed a warm kiss against Bruce’s knuckles before he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He handed it to Bruce to squint at the pictures of Hulk’s snow angel.


	12. Peppermint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

“There it is,” Bruce said, drawing his hand out of his coat pocket to point toward the tiny bookshop mashed in between two other stores that lined the busy city street.

Clint, Natasha, and Bruce had headed out into the city that afternoon in search of _something._ Bruce literally had no idea what they were looking for, and neither did Natasha, but Clint had insisted on bringing them out with him. The only clue they had was that they were looking for this tiny little shop that Clint had looked up that morning, that none of them had ever heard of before. The archer never said what it was that he was looking for, meaning it was probably for that Secret Santa thing.

Bruce still hadn’t figured out what he wanted to get for Natasha, and he was running out of time. He kept thinking about asking Clint, but he kept putting it off, sure that he would come up with something.

Since making that pie with Steve last Saturday, Bruce hadn’t heard anything more about the Secret Santa thing from anyone. So it came as a bit of a surprise went Clint decided to drag Bruce and Natasha out with him for _unspecified_ reasons.

The three of them came to a stop on the sidewalk, out of the way for other pedestrians to walk by unhindered. They were all dressed for the cold. Bruce had bought Clint a scarf to wear from a street vendor a few blocks ago, since the archer had been complaining about the cold, which was answered by Natasha’s cool reminders that he should have dressed more warmly. She had both a scarf and a black wool cap pulled low over her head, the combination of the two effectively hiding a majority of her bright red hair. Ever since SHIELD’s files had been purposely leaked, they had to disguise themselves. Luckily for Bruce and Clint, they were fairly average looking.

Unfortunately for the others, they were not.

The other two followed Bruce’s finger and found the store they were looking for. Clint beamed. “Finally,” he said. “I was beginning to think this place didn’t exist.”

They walked a little further down the street to get closer to the store, and Clint glanced over at his two escorts. “I might be a while,” he said after a moment. “You can, er, browse around or something, or, uh…”

Natasha rolled her eyes and linked arms with Bruce. “We’re going to go get a coffee over there,” she said, nodding toward a coffee shop on the corner of a nearby street. “Come find us when you’re done trying to be secretive.”

Clint flashed them a bright grin before Natasha pulled Bruce away toward the shop. Bruce let himself be led away, turning to wave at Clint.

The coffee shop Natasha dragged him to was a little place, not like the corporate chains that seemed to attract so much attention. It was nice and warm inside, not too crowded and with laid back instrumental holiday music playing softly over the speakers.

They got in line and stood there together, neither of them speaking until they were next. 

“Have you been here before?” Natasha asked, glancing over at him.

“I haven’t,” Bruce replied, still studying the menu.

The very corners of Natasha’s lips twitched, like she was biting back a smile. “Do you like peppermint?” she inquired.

Bruce gave an affirmative answer, and Natasha nodded knowingly. When they got to the counter, without asking what Bruce wanted, she ordered three peppermint mocha lattes and a blueberry scone. As she pulled out her bank card to pay for everything, Bruce protested, but very quickly went silent when she gave him a _look._ With a sigh, he offered a small _thank you_ that made her smile in satisfaction to herself.

Once Natasha gave her name to the barista—“Rushman,” she had given—Natasha turned and lightly patted Bruce’s arm. “I’m going to go find a table. Wait for the drinks?”

“Sure,” Bruce answered, and then watched Natasha wander off.

It only took a few minutes to make the drinks, and the employee behind the counter gave him a holder to carry all three cups. With the holder and the bagged blueberry scone in hand, Bruce turned to find where Natasha had disappeared to.

She had managed to snag a booth next to a window, giving them a view of the bookstore down the street that Clint was currently in. She had grabbed some extra napkins and was looking out the window, though she glanced up at him when he slid into the seat across from her. “Thank you,” she said, extracting her drink from the holder.

“Thanks for the drink,” Bruce said again, following her example and pulling one of the two cups from the holder to claim as his own. 

They both just sat there for a moment, waiting for their drinks to cool, before Natasha peered over at the bookstore again. “Do you know who he got for this Secret Santa thing?” she asked.

Bruce let his hands wrap around the warm paper cup as he shook his head. “He hasn’t said anything to me,” he answered. “I’m surprised he hasn’t already told you.”

He meant it as a joke, but Natasha glanced away from the store to look at him. “He doesn’t always tell me everything,” she replied.

Bruce swallowed and looked down at his cup of coffee, wishing it was cool enough to sip for the sole desire of having a distraction.

He looked back up when he heard Natasha snort something that almost sounded like a laugh. She was still looking at him, but there was a softness that edged the amusement on her face. “I’m not his mother, thank god,” she said. “You don’t need my blessing to date him.”

“I’d hope not,” Bruce heard himself reply with a small smile.

Natasha smiled back and glanced out the window again. “He didn’t tell me you two had started dating,” she said after a moment without looking away.

Bruce stared at her for a few heartbeats more before he let his eyes go to the window. “We haven’t been together all that long,” he said, like it was some consolation.

“Officially,” Natasha added, and Bruce had to agree. It felt like they had been together for a lot longer than they had actually been dating. Hell, it hadn’t even been two weeks yet.

“Officially,” Bruce granted.

The conversation dropped when Natasha picked up her cup and took a cautious sip, and then motioned for Bruce to do the same. He could already smell the peppermint in it, and when he took a tentative sip, wary of burning his mouth, he found the drink to be at a comfortably hot temperature. The peppermint mingled beautifully with the flavors of the mocha latte, bringing out the chocolate sauce used to make the drink. It was delicious.

Natasha watched his reaction with a smile. “This is one of the best holiday coffees I’ve had in the city,” she said. “Steve and I came here last week, and I made him try it. The good thing about this drink is that it gives people something to look forward to every winter. The bad thing is that they _only_ offer it in the winter.”

“I’m sure you can make it during the rest of the year,” Bruce reasoned with a smile.

“It’s not the same,” Natasha replied airily, letting her hands wrap gently around the cup to let the heat of the drink to warm her hands. “Clint and I tried to make it one time in his apartment, and it came out tasting more like toothpaste than anything.”

As Bruce laughed, Natasha looked down at her cup again before fixing her eyes back on him. “I already asked him if he was happy,” she said softly. She watched him critically for a long moment, and Bruce forced himself not to squirm under her terrifying gaze. “He saved you from getting a brutal talking to.”

“I’ll be sure to thank him,” Bruce offered quietly.

“I’m sure you will,” Natasha replied softly, and Bruce felt himself blush against his will. Natasha smirked, and then took another sip of her drink, letting the liquid linger over her palate before swallowing. “I wanted to be sure he was happy before I said anything to you,” she went on. “I know he’d be upset otherwise.”

She took another sip of her drink, and Bruce did the same, feeling her eyes watching him.

“Are you happy?”

Bruce looked up at the question, mid-sip, and met her eyes. He swallowed the peppermint drink and reveled in the aftertaste as he glanced back out the window, just in time to see Clint step out with a small plastic bag in his hands. 

He smiled as he watched the archer wind his new scarf around his neck. “I am,” he answered softly, feeling almost too openly genuine, but he wasn’t going to lie, and he couldn’t reel back this feeling. “I really am. It’s… It’s been a long time since I’ve been this happy.” He huffed a small laugh and glanced down at his hands, letting his fingers play across the patterns on the paper cup instead of meeting her eyes. “I only hope he feels the same.”

“He does,” Natasha said quietly, and when he glanced up, he saw that she was smiling almost serenely to herself. “You both have had very rough lives. I’m glad you two found each other and are finding happiness together.”

Her words were touching on a very deep level, and Bruce felt himself smile. He hadn’t expected their talk to go like this, but he realized he really should have. Natasha always put everyone else in front of her, both on and off the field. She had sacrificed her privacy and, frankly, her very safety when she had decided to help Steve take down SHIELD by dumping everybody’s secrets out in the open. She had continually assisted Steve and Thor and even Bruce get acclimated to living in this time period, without the eagerness Tony had shown that had been more overwhelming than helpful at the time.

Of course she would have been concerned for Clint, but he should have realized she was concerned for him, too.

She spent so much of her time doing things for other people, it was a wonder when she ever got time for just herself.

As they watched Clint walk across the street, weaving between stopped cars, Bruce found himself lighting up on a possible gift for Natasha. He still needed to peruse it further, of course, but at least he was finally getting an idea.

He put it on the back burner as Natasha looked at him again, and the sudden seriousness on her face made him blink. “I already gave him this talk,” she said lowly, and Bruce felt anxiety begin to blossom in his chest. “If you ever purposely hurt him, you will know my wrath.”

Bruce swallowed before he spoke. “I just want to make him happy,” he replied. “I don’t plan to hurt him, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

Natasha stared at him for a long, tense moment before she gave a sweet smile that was frankly terrifying. “As long as we’re clear,” she said.

“Transparently,” Bruce answered. He glanced back out the window as Natasha took another sip of her coffee, and he watched Clint coming up the sidewalk toward the front door of the shop. “You know,” he went on after a moment, a small smile starting to tug at his lips, “I think Hulk gave Clint a similar talk yesterday, but I think yours was scarier.”

Biting back a smile of her own, Natasha leaned over the table to punch Bruce in the shoulder. It was a light punch, not nearly what she was capable of, but it still stung. Bruce leaned back against his seat, rubbing at his shoulder and grinning as Natasha settled in her seat once more, looking satisfied with herself.

Clint walked into the coffee shop, sharp eyes moving around until he spotted their table. It was impossible not to smile when Clint grinned widely.

Bruce scooted over along the booth just in time for Clint to sit down. A laugh escaped from him when Clint landed bodily against him. He pushed the other man off of him as Natasha watched with amusement in her eyes.

“You kids behave yourselves? Have fun?” Clint asked once he was sitting like a mature adult. He eyed the third cup still in the holder. “What’d you get me?”

Natasha freed the third cup and slid it across the table to the archer. “Peppermint mocha,” she answered, and the look of deep gratitude that appeared on Clint’s face made Bruce smile. “We were discussing our previous attempts to make this.”

Clint swallowed his mouthful of drink and looked at her. “The time it tasted like toothpaste?” he asked, and Bruce laughed softly.

Natasha pulled the scone from the bag and they all broke off little pieces to nibble on in between sips of the peppermint coffee. They sat peacefully like that for several minutes, just enjoying their minty drinks and each other’s company.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Bruce asked, nodding down at the bag that was sitting on the seat between himself and Clint. It was a small bag, hardly big enough to fit a book inside, but bookstores were notorious for carrying trinkets of all shapes and sizes. Maybe that was what he wanted.

“Nah,” Clint replied, picking up the bag. “It gave me some ideas, though, which is good.”

“Then what did you end up getting?” Natasha asked.

Clint grinned and pulled out three candies he had bought from the bookstore. He handed one to Natasha and one to Bruce, keeping the last one for himself. “I couldn’t resist,” he said, completely unapologetic.

“You’re such a child,” Natasha replied as she unwrapped the candy, though she didn’t sound like she was complaining at all. 

As Natasha and Clint popped their pieces into their mouths, Bruce took a look at the wrapper. The candy was one of those individually wrapped chocolates, only the wrappers on each of them said they were peppermint flavored. “I take it you two really enjoy mint, then,” Bruce said, pulling the candy free from the wrapper. “I’ll have to keep that in mind when I do my Christmas baking.”

When they both turned hungry looks toward him, Bruce laughed and then finally popped the candy into his mouth. The chocolate melted smoothly away to leave a cool minty taste on his tongue.


	13. Stockings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

There was the smell of coffee in the air as Bruce and Clint stepped off of the elevator on the communal floor. It was getting close to five in the evening. The sun was already going down, leaving the clear winter sky a cascade of different colors beyond the cityscape. 

They were actually on their way to Clint’s suite for a date night indoors. The archer had bought one of those pizzas that some markets sold, ready to be customized and baked at the customer’s convenience. There was a spice in the communal kitchen that went _fantastically_ with pizza, so they stopped off there to grab it before retreating back to Clint’s floor for the night. They managed to dodge the mistletoe in the doorway and snuck into the room.

They hadn’t expected to see Pepper and Tony already in the kitchen.

There were two large plastic bags sitting on the kitchen table. Pepper was at the table, jotting something down on a slip of paper, while Tony was pouring two cups of coffee at the counter.

“What’s all this?” Clint asked, eyeing the bags.

Pepper and Tony glanced toward the doorway, having just noticed them. “We’re getting ready to make everyone’s stocking,” Pepper explained, pulling one of the bags on the table closer to her. She pulled out one of the red and white oversized socks from within the plastic bag.

“Yeah,” Tony added, walking over to the table. He set both cups down and then reached for the other bag. “Look at all the different colors of glitter glue they make these days.” He then dumped the contents of the bag onto the table. Bottles of differently colored glitter glue went everywhere, rolling across the table.

As Pepper’s hand reached out to grab one of the bottles as it rolled over the edge of the table, Tony grinned delightedly at Clint and Bruce. “I didn’t know they made it in so many colors nowadays. There was only silver and gold back when Jarvis and I made some for my mom and old man.”

While Bruce eyed the different bottles of glue that Pepper was tidying up into a neat row, Clint looked at Tony. “Why, exactly, did you wait until Steve left to go back to DC to do this?” he asked. “You know he’d probably rock at this sort of thing.”

“Do you guys need help?” Bruce asked, looking at Pepper.

Tony and Pepper exchanged glances before the redhead smiled at Bruce. “You don’t have to if you have other plans,” she said, peering briefly at Clint, “but there’s plenty to do if you’d like to.

Bruce looked over at Clint. He didn’t want this to interfere with their date night.

Clint gave him a grin and led the way over to the table. “D’you think Thor wants in on this?” he asked as the pair sat down at the table. The Asgardian was the only other inhabitant in the tower at the moment. Steve had flown off to DC again for the veteran’s thing with Sam, and Natasha had gone along with him. 

After JARVIS sent down a message to the other Avenger, Thor appeared a few minutes later. “My apologies,” he said as he stepped through the doorway, peeking up at the mistletoe that almost brushed the top of his head. “I was not aware that we were meeting this fine evening.”

“This is a spur of the moment type thing,” Tony replied with a grin, waving the demigod over to the table to sit with the four of them. “Did you want to help us put names on the stockings?” he asked. 

“What purpose does the stocking hold?” Thor asked as he sat down, studying the bottle of red glitter glue curiously. “Lady Jane has such decorations in her abode yonder, though I confess that it confused me then as well, and I did not think to ask at the time.”

As Pepper started handing out the red and white stockings, Tony explained. “They’re just socks you hang up for people to put stuff in,” he said. “Usually smaller gifts and edible things go in them, like candy or gum or stuff like that. Also, it’s just for decoration.”

Pepper had a list of all the stockings they needed to make. “Go ahead and start with your own names first, I think,” she said. She pushed the bottles of glue toward the center of the table, making access to them simpler. She crossed off their five names from her list, and they got to work.

They each grabbed a color and got started. Thor had the deep red glitter glue that he had been eyeing earlier. Clint had purple, Tony had gold, and Pepper had blue. Bruce picked up the silver bottle, pointedly ignoring Tony when he nudged the green one closer. Pepper swatted her boyfriend’s hands away from Bruce and forced him to focus on his own task instead of pestering Bruce.

JARVIS put on some holiday music to give them something to listen to while they worked. 

Once they had each finished up, they carefully moved the stockings to the island counter to dry, so they’d have room on the table to keep working. 

Tony spotted Thor’s stocking and grinned. “I didn’t realize you had the artist’s touch,” he said, sounding impressed.

When Bruce and everyone else glanced over, he had to agree. Thor’s handwriting with the glitter glue was surprisingly beautiful. The four letters of his name were written perfectly. 

Thor smiled graciously. “Tis but calligraphy in a different medium,” he replied, though he sounded pleased.

More stockings were handed out as they sat back down at the table, and Pepper consulted her list of names again, only to sigh a moment later. “Tony,” she began, giving him a look.

“You said I could,” he replied defensively.

“I said you could _ask,”_ she said, like she was repeating herself not for the first time. Before Tony could retaliate, she turned and looked at Bruce, and the physicist suddenly felt a little nervous. “Tony was supposed to ask you,” she said.

Before Bruce could even ask what it was they were talking about, Tony turned and almost hesitant look toward him. “I want Hulk to have a stocking,” Tony said, blunt and simple. “Pepper said I should ask, just in case, uh…”

“In case it offended you,” Pepper finished for Tony.

“That’s…” Bruce began feebly, feeling his alter ego shift in the back of his mind, like hearing his name had caught his attention. 

But more overwhelming than that was the warmth that settled in his chest, touched that they’d want to do this at all. For as cautious as Bruce was in regard to his other half, he had gotten closer to Hulk in the past two or so years. He was still a destructive force of nature, to be sure, but he wasn’t a monster in Bruce’s eyes anymore. 

The thought that they would want this for his alter ego was actually very heartwarming.

“That’s actually very, very kind,” Bruce finally said, feeling himself smile at Tony and Pepper. “I’m sure he’d love that.”

Pepper looked relieved, but Tony just grinned. He slid the green glue not to Bruce, but over to Clint. “Do the honors, Bird Feathers,” he said.

Clint’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas as he picked up the glitter glue. “I’d love to,” he said, nudging Bruce lightly with an elbow.

They all got to work on their next set of stockings. Clint wrote Hulk’s name out in all capital letters with the green glitter glue, but each letter was written with such loving care that Bruce couldn’t help but smile. Thor took care of Steve’s in that same gorgeous handwriting with the blue glue. Bruce wrote out Natasha’s name with the red glitter glue, doing his very best to make sure it was neat. 

When he glanced over at Tony and Pepper, he had to bite back a smile. Pepper was writing out _Butterfingers_ in her elegant scrawl, using the golden glue on one of the smaller stockings. Meanwhile, Tony was neatly writing _JARVIS_ across the top of his stocking with the silver.

Bruce was really happy to see that they were including Tony’s bots.

There were six more names left to take care of, but before long, there was a stocking for Sam, Jane, Rhodey, Coulson, and DUM-E. Thor took the last one and wrote the letter _U_ with such finesse it had them all smiling.

When they were done, they had sixteen stockings in total. All of the large socks and the three smaller ones for Butterfingers, U, and DUM-E went up on the counter to dry, and they all stood back to observe their handiwork.

“Good job, team,” Tony said approvingly, his hands on his hips and a grin on his face. “I’ll hang them up on the mantle tomorrow, once they’re dry.”

“You gonna have enough room?” Clint asked, glancing over at the engineer.

“I’ll figure something out,” Tony said airily.

With that, he and Pepper bid them all a good evening, as they were going out to dinner. A moment after they had walked out of the room, Clint’s phone rang.

“It’s Tasha,” the archer said before he slipped from the room to answer with a cheery holiday greeting, followed swiftly by a bark of laughter.

Thor and Bruce were left in the kitchen together, still looking over the stockings. 

After a moment, Thor glanced over at him. “What sorts of things would you place in a stocking?” he asked. “Tony made mention of edible things.”

Bruce nodded. “From my understanding, most people just put candy in stockings, along with other sweets or little things.”

“Your understanding?” Thor repeated.

Bruce looked away toward the counter again. “My family never really did the whole stocking thing when I was young,” he said, even as images of their stockings burned in their fireplace after his father had thrown them into the fire in a blind, drunken rage. He forced those memories away. “Betty and I didn’t either.” 

He glanced back at Thor and smiled. “Jane hung some stockings up, then?” he asked, changing the subject.

Thor thankfully didn’t push him and smiled instead. “That she did,” he said. “I wish to gift their stockings with little things. I now have some idea of what would be appropriate.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder. “I thank you, friend.”

“Glad I could help,” Bruce replied with a smile.

He was about to go on, but Clint popped back into the kitchen. “Nat says hello,” he said to the pair, and then he focused on Thor. “Got plans for the night?” he asked.

Thor glanced at the way Clint was standing next to Bruce, almost too close, before he smiled knowingly and shook his head. “I do not wish to intrude on your date night.”

“We’re just going to make pizza and watch a movie,” Bruce assured him.

“Yeah, man,” Clint added. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Thor grinned. “Jane has taught me the importance of the sacred _date night,”_ he said, making both Bruce and Clint smile. “Besides,” he added after another moment, his smile broadening, “I must return to Asgard for… _reasons.”_

Clint smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Reasons?” he repeated in a slightly wheedling tone.

Thor only grinned brightly again and pointedly kept his mouth shut on the subject. “I shall return by Monday,” he said. And with that, he strode out of the room.

Alone, Bruce and Clint lingered behind in the kitchen. Once they were the only ones in the room, they closed the distance between them, each of them wrapping an arm around the other’s back. Standing hip to hip, they took a moment to just look at the drying stockings. 

Bruce let his eyes focus on the stocking Clint had made for Hulk, and he tipped his head slightly against Clint’s shoulder. “You did a really great job on Hulk’s,” he said softly.

Clint immediately smiled and gave Bruce a light squeeze. “I’m so glad you were okay with him getting one,” he replied. “He’s gonna be psyched. You know he’s only gonna get candy.”

“Hulk on a sugar high,” Bruce said mildly, smiling when Clint laughed. “That’s going to be on your guys’ heads.”

“It’ll be great,” Clint assured him.

They separated for Clint to grab that spice for the pizza from the pantry. Hand in hand, they walked out of the room to the elevator, getting caught under the mistletoe along the way. 

As they were standing in the elevator together, Bruce glanced over at Clint again. “Seriously, though,” he said, drawing the archer’s eyes to him, “you did great on Hulk’s stocking. Thank you.”

Clint smiled again, bright and affectionate, and drew Bruce in for a long hug. “Thanks for letting him have one,” he responded.

The elevator came to a stop on Clint’s floor. “When should he get to open his stocking?” Clint asked, pulling Bruce inside his suite.

The door behind them slipped shut as Bruce thought about it. “Christmas,” he replied, “I would imagine.” He paused for a moment, following Clint into the kitchen to start making their pizza, before going on in a nervous and softened tone. “Did you, uh… Did you have plans for Christmas?” he asked hesitantly.

Clint set the spice down on the counter and turned to press a kiss against Bruce’s cheek. “Aside from keeping you out of your lab, no,” he replied. A smile crossed his face, this bright and beautiful thing that made Bruce’s breath catch. “Why? You wanna spend Christmas together?” he asked softly.

The hopeful anticipation in the archer’s voice made Bruce smile, and he drew Clint close until they were pressed together. “I do,” he replied, letting his arms wrap around Clint’s body and smiling when he felt Clint’s do the same to him. “I’d love to spend Christmas with you.”


	14. Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Bruce was just stepping out of the shower when JARVIS’s voice sounded. _“Doctor, there is a letter for you in your laboratory,”_ he announced.

The towel being used to dry his hair stopped moving for a long moment. “A letter?” Bruce repeated. “But it’s Sunday.”

_“The letter arrived with yesterday’s final mail delivery,”_ the AI informed him. _“I did not feel it prudent to interrupt you yesterday, sir.”_

“Oh.” Of course. The final mail runs were done in the afternoon, and Bruce had been busy with Clint from noon on. He had only just gotten back to his room after spending the night with Clint. Of course JARVIS wouldn’t want to interrupt their time together for the announcement of a letter.

The incoming post was rigorously screened by the security team in the tower. They each received dozens upon dozens of letters from both friends and foes, writing in with their gratitude or with scathing remarks. Only certain letters actually made it to their hands.

So they were typically really important when they were told they actually had mail.

“Who is it from?” Bruce asked as he set aside his towel and began dressing himself.

_“The return label says_ The Sampson-Ross Family,” JARVIS replied.

Bruce immediately felt himself smile.

He had just finished throwing on his clothes when he heard a knock at his door. The door opened as he began looking around for his shoes, but he remembered he had left them by the front door.

Clint was just closing the door behind him when Bruce came out of his room. “Hey,” the archer said with a bright smile, like they hadn’t been lying in bed together less than an hour ago.

Bruce felt himself smile and he approached the other man, placing a light peck of a kiss against Clint’s smiling lips. “Hey yourself,” he said, and then proceeded to shove his feet into his shoes.

“Where’s the fire?” Clint asked with a grin as he reached out a hand to steady Bruce when he almost lost his balance in his haste to get his left shoe on.

“The lab,” Bruce replied quickly. When a spark of serious worry appeared on Clint’s face, Bruce realized what the question had been. “No, no, no. No fire,” he reassured the other man hastily. “There’s just something down there.”

“Oh,” Clint replied, looking relieved. The relief was quickly replaced with sternness. “Bruce, it’s Sunday. You’re allowed to take days off, you know.”

“I’m not going down there to work,” Bruce said reassuringly. “I just need to grab something.” He caught one of Clint’s hands in his and gave him a smile. “But you can come with me to make sure I don’t get distracted, if you’d like.”

“Or to distract you with something else,” Clint replied with a wicked grin that had Bruce blushing. 

They made it down to the lab without incident. The walls of the lab were still covered with Tony’s window stickers and the small sprig of mistletoe was still affixed in place by one of Clint’s arrows. 

Bruce paused in the doorway and tugged Clint to him. Even as the lights dimmed and the sudden spotlight shone down on them, Clint smiled. They shared a long, lazy, and heated kiss in the doorway. 

A contented hum sounded from Clint as they broke apart, and Bruce led the way into the lab, eyes lighting up when he spotted the letter on his desk.

As he picked it up to look at the return label, Clint molded himself to Bruce’s back. “A letter?” the archer asked.

“A Christmas card,” the scientist replied. A smile crossed his face when he felt strong arms wrap around him and he leaned back against the solid chest behind him. He pointed to the return label.

“From Betty,” Clint said, unnecessarily. He pressed a chaste kiss against Bruce’s neck and gave him a gentle squeeze before he withdrew, probably to give Bruce some privacy.

Bruce watched the archer move to a nearby stool before he opened the envelope. He pulled out a card with a picturesque scene of a cabin in a snowy forest. When he flipped the card open, a few pictures spilled from it and onto the desk.

He hastily caught one before it could fall to the floor, and when he turned it over, he instantly smiled at the image. His chest immediately suffused with warmth and he drew the photograph closer.

The picture was of a baby girl, probably close to two years old. The child had Betty’s same dark hair and her gorgeous eye color. A cheerful holiday sweater adorned the girl’s torso and she was smiling to her little heart’s content, and Bruce saw that she had the same dimples as Betty.

After staring at the photo for a moment longer, he finally set it aside and looked back at the card. There was the generic pre-written message on the right side of the inside of the card, but on the left was a message written in Betty’s same scrawl he remembered seeing every day for years:

 

_Bruce,_

_Merry Christmas! I hope you are enjoying your first holiday season stateside so far. Things are as hectic as ever at Culver, but that’s hardly a surprise. I hope you are taking it easy and actually enjoying the holiday. It’s always a good thing to take breaks._

_During our last email exchange, I told you I would send pictures of Penny. She’s growing so fast! I can hardly believe it’s been almost three years already._

_I know you are incredibly busy, what with your work at Stark Industries and your work as an Avenger, but we would love to see you sometime. I know Leo really wants to meet you, and I’m sure Penny does, too._

_I hope you and your friends up there have a wonderful holiday, Bruce, truly. Let me know how you’re doing and if you ever need anything._

_Merry Christmas!_

_Betty_

 

Bruce read the message again before he glanced at the other side of the card at the pre-printed message extending season’s greetings. Below the print were three signatures. Leonard had signed his own name, along with a brief message about looking forward to meeting him. Betty’s elegant hand was right next to his, and below was a bright purple crayon scribble, which Betty had helpfully translated in parenthesis to _Penny._

A warm smile touched his lips as he looked over the letter in its entirety again before he looked over at Clint, who was still on the nearby stool, tapping away at his phone. “Betty says hi,” Bruce said, drawing Clint’s attention, “and Merry Christmas.”

Clint grinned and hopped to his feet. “How’s she doing?” he asked as he slipped his phone into his back pocket.

“Keeping busy,” Bruce replied. “Between the lab and the holidays, things are very busy, never mind having a two year old running around.”

Clint came to a pause at that. “She has a kid?” he asked softly.

With the wave of his arm, Bruce beckoned Clint closer, and once they were nestled together, Bruce showed him the picture of Penny. “She’ll be three in April,” he replied softly, smiling at the photograph.

They looked at the photo together for a moment before Clint spoke. “She’s a cutie,” he murmured. 

When he glanced over, Bruce saw a serious look on the archer’s face. A frown touched his lips and he gave Clint a light squeeze. “You alright?” he asked.

Clint looked at him briefly before he glanced down at the card, sitting open on the desk so Betty’s elegant handwriting was displayed. “Do you…” He swallowed and tried again. “Do you ever think about what could have been?”

Bruce stared at the man against him for a long moment before he looked back at the photo of Penny. He carefully set it down and flipped through the other pictures Betty had sent over. The majority of them were of the little girl, but one photo consisted of the whole family. It was a studio picture—they all were—with Betty sitting with Penny on her lap. Standing with them was a man that must have been Leonard, and once Bruce finally saw him, he could see the resemblance between him and Penny.

“Maybe,” he answered at last. “I used to think about it a lot when I was on the run.”

“What about now?” Clint asked.

Bruce gave a mild shrug. “Not so much anymore,” he replied truthfully. 

To be honest, thoughts of Betty and _what if_ had followed him across the globe, but after Harlem, he had tried his best to move on. Once he had seen that she had been trying to move on with her life, he had done the same. They hadn’t spoken for four years, and it probably would have been longer if not for Clint.

Betty had contacted him first with a letter sent to Stark Industries. She hadn’t known if it would actually reach him, and Bruce had been so sorely tempted to ignore it, to let her think that he wasn’t there, so she could stop wasting her time on him and focus on her own life.

But Clint had talked him into replying. He had seen the letter on Bruce’s desk, and Bruce had told him about the situation. 

Without Clint, Bruce never would have found the courage to write back to her. Without Clint, they would not have started rebuilding their friendship. Bruce had been so scared to communicate with her, and even more frightened to actually see her. He had caused her nothing but pain for so long; he didn’t want to reintroduce her to that kind of life.

But he was happy to have their friendship back, and he had Clint to thank for that.

Clint looked up when Bruce twisted in his arms until their bodies were pressed together. Bruce wrapped his arms around the archer’s body and pressed a long kiss against Clint’s lips, sighing peacefully when he felt Clint’s arms pull him closer and he returned it.

They broke apart, but Bruce embraced him. “She has her own life now,” he said quietly, “and so do I. She’s safe now, and what’s more, she’s happy.” He smiled and kissed Clint softly again. “I’m happy, too,” he admitted against the archer’s mouth. Their embrace tightened again and Bruce tucked his face against Clint’s neck. One of his hands trailed up Clint’s back when he felt Clint press his forehead against Bruce’s shoulder, letting his fingers card through his hair until he was holding Clint’s head there. 

“There are some things I regret, but letting Betty go was never one of them, and I don’t regret you. This is my life now,” Bruce whispered, “and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

He smiled when Clint tilted his head and pressed a kiss against his neck. 

They held each other for a few minutes more before Bruce lifted his face from the warmth of Clint’s throat, and he felt the man against him do the same. They looked one another in the eye, and Bruce pressed another chaste kiss against Clint’s lips. “Sorry if I frightened you or gave you doubt,” the scientist apologized.

Clint only smiled and lightly kissed Bruce’s forehead.

They broke apart and Bruce’s eyes were drawn back to the card. He smiled and glanced back at Clint. “Would it be alright with you if I sent her a picture of us?” he asked.

A radiant grin spread across the archer’s face.

==

“What about this one?” Clint asked.

They were standing in the photo area of a nearby pharmacy, browsing through pictures on their phones to print out. Bruce was still looking through his phone, but Clint had already attached his cell phone to the picture kiosk and was looking at the different photographs on the screen.

Bruce glanced up from his phone to look at the screen of the kiosk, and promptly grinned. “Where did you get that?” he asked.

The photo on the screen was of Bruce and Tony together in the lab. They were standing triumphantly over the finished prototype of a project they had been working on for weeks. Pepper had insisted on taking a picture, and Tony hadn’t hesitated in throwing an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. It was a good picture of them.

Clint grinned over at Bruce. “Pepper sent it to me on our way over,” he replied. 

Bruce smiled. “Yeah, let’s print that one out,” he said.

The archer selected the picture, bringing their total up to three pictures to be printed so far. 

As Clint went back through browsing the folders on the kiosk, Bruce returned to his phone. He pulled up a picture in one of his gallery’s folders and smiled as the image filled his screen. It was one of him and Clint together that the archer had taken on their first date. They were standing in the snow near a lamp post in the park, on their way back to the tower after their dinner. Their cheeks were red from the cold, but also from laughter. Both of them were smiling at the camera, pressed cheek to cheek, and they both looked so unspeakably happy. 

“Can I send her this one?” Bruce asked, tilting his screen toward Clint for the other man to see.

A grin immediately touched Clint’s lips. “Not the one after that?” he asked softly in a teasing tone.

The photo that had been taken immediately after that had been of Clint pressing a kiss to Bruce’s cheek, and Bruce laughing in surprise. 

“No,” Bruce replied, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “No, I think this one will do.”

Clint smirked at getting Bruce to blush, but he agreed. “That one’s nice.”

After they had connected Bruce’s phone to the kiosk to make their selection of photos, Bruce went off to hunt down a Christmas card while Clint waited for the pictures to finish printing.

There were a few other people in the card aisle of the pharmacy, but Bruce kept to himself and perused the different options he had to choose from. He was drawn to the cards without the pre-printed message inside and looked through the different pictures on the front of the cards, trying to find one he knew Betty would like.

He was down to two selections when Clint appeared by his side with the paper picture-holder in his hand. “What do you think?” Bruce asked, holding up the two cards. One had a snowy scene of a forest at night, complete with twinkling stars and the Northern Lights in the sky. The other consisted of a line of ornaments suspended in mid-air against a bright and multicolored background. 

“You know her better than I do,” Clint replied with a shrug. 

“Meaning I know her,” Bruce replied with a smile, which grew when Clint playfully bumped him with an elbow.

Bruce selected the card with the forest on the front, and they headed to the register to pay for the card and the printed photographs, as well as a second card Clint had grabbed with a mischievous smirk.

When they got back to the tower, they returned to Bruce’s lab. While Clint went through the printed pictures, snickering at some of the funnier ones, Bruce sat down and composed a message to Betty. There was the general wishing of happy holidays, and he replied to the points she made in her letter. He reminded her to take breaks from work—she may not have been the workaholic that Bruce was, but she came pretty damn close. He thanked her for sending over the pictures of the family, along with exclamations on how cute Penny was and how she would grow into the beautiful woman her mother was. 

He started a new paragraph and went on to tell her about the holiday festivities he had experienced so far in the tower, along with the adventure in getting a Christmas tree with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, as well as his experience in ice skating again after so long. 

Closing out the letter, Bruce wrote that he looked forward to seeing her again, and to meeting Leonard and Penny, maybe after the chaos of the holidays had passed. 

His pen sat motionless in his hand for a lingering moment before he signed his name, and Bruce glanced over the frames of his glasses at Clint. The archer was still sitting on a nearby stool, flipping through the pictures.

Clint must have noticed he was being watched, for he glanced over in time to catch Bruce staring. A smile touched his lips as he set the pictures down. “You ready for the photos?” he asked.

“I don’t even know for sure which ones you picked,” Bruce replied, eyeing the stack in Clint’s hand. “How many did you print?”

Clint gave a shrug as he hopped off his seat, strolling casually up to where Bruce was still seated. “I wanted some for myself,” he admitted. “You can pick the ones you want to send her.” As he handed the pictures to Bruce, he laid a warm hand against Bruce’s back, and Bruce couldn’t help but smile to himself. 

There were full-group photos of the entire team, probably taken by Pepper over the course of the last few months. There was a photo that had all six Avengers, Rhodey, Jane, Sam, and Pepper that had been taken at the Independence Day party Tony had thrown. Then there were smaller group photos, little candid moments taken on someone’s phone to capture the scenes. There was one that he remembered Natasha taking when Bruce had been in the kitchen, teaching Thor how to make Baba ghanoush. There was another with Bruce and Steve laughing at something Natasha had said.

There were countless others, and Bruce felt himself smiling as he looked at each of them. 

He got to the one with himself and Clint standing together under the lamp post in the snow, taken less than two weeks ago. He flipped to the next picture, only to see it was a duplicate. The following photo was a second duplicate.

Clint grinned and reached for one of the duplicates when Bruce glanced up at him. “This is a good picture of us,” he said. He placed the photo on Bruce’s desk, letting it rest back against his pencil holder. “Thought you might like one for your desk.”

Bruce smiled and held up the other one. “And where are you planning on putting this one?” he asked.

“That one is going on my refrigerator,” Clint proclaimed proudly, prompting a laugh out of Bruce. He grinned and planted a kiss against Bruce’s curls. 

Bruce selected five of the pictures to be sent to Betty, and then picked up his pen to finish writing his message. He read his last paragraph again, stating how he would like to visit them sometime after the New Year. 

He watched Clint move off toward the lab table Tony had claimed as his own, despite his own lab being just a walk away, to place a photo. Another smile touched his lips and he turned back to the card. _And if it’d be alright with you,_ he wrote, _I have someone very dear to me that I’d like you to meet._


	15. Christmas Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Bruce stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room in time to see the game show change over to a commercial break. From over the top of the love seat, he saw the top of Clint’s head tilt back as he groaned about having to sit through _another_ batch of Christmas commercials.

Biting back a smile, Bruce stepped around sofa to hand Thor a bottled water.

“Oh, come on, Bird Feathers,” Tony replied, grinning when the physicist tossed him his bottle of water. “Christmas commercials are all part of the holiday season.”

“To a businessman, maybe,” Clint griped back, but his tone was teasing more than anything. He welcomed Bruce back on the loveseat and threw an arm around his shoulders so they could get comfortable again. “I don’t think—”

“What is that man doing?” Thor asked, interrupting their mock-argument.

They all looked over at Thor, who was still looking at the television, so they all glanced over at the screen. It looked like some kind of insurance commercial, but Thor was focused on what the man in the commercial was actually doing instead of the narrator’s commentary. The actor was wobbling on a ladder, half-wrapped in Christmas lights.

“He’s decorating his house,” Bruce explained, even as the man on screen grabbed on to his gutter and the ladder crashed into his car, breaking his windshield.

Tony’s eyes shot from the screen to Thor. “You haven’t seen Christmas lights?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“I have seen some festive lights, rest assured,” Thor replied, “but what purpose do they hold?”

“It’s just for decoration,” Bruce said.

“And out-doing your neighbor,” Tony added with a smirk.

“A competition of sorts?” Thor asked, glancing away from the screen when it switched over to a retail commercial. 

“For some, maybe,” Bruce answered before Tony or Clint could feed the Asgardian any wrong information. It wouldn’t have been the first time. “Mostly it’s just for people to look at and admire.”

Tony stood up abruptly. “Grab your coats,” he ordered before he grinned down at Thor. “We’re going for a drive.”

==

“This is fantastic,” Thor said in delighted wonder as he stared out the window.

With Tony in the driver’s seat and Thor riding shotgun, Clint and Bruce were sitting side by side in the back. When they had gotten in the car, Tony had twisted in his seat and said “I better not catch you two necking back there.” Thor had boomed with laughter when Clint’s only reply was to cuddle up to Bruce and flip the bird at Tony.

They were still cuddled together, comfortable and cozy in each other’s space, but they had abstained from anything beyond cuddling. They were content to just sit together, sharing each other’s space and warmth as Tony drove aimlessly around the city. 

They went to certain parts of the city to admire the decorations adorning the fronts of certain buildings. Hotels were decorated lavishly, trying to draw tourists in for a Christmas in New York with tall Christmas trees and gorgeous lights, each one trying to out-do the other. Businesses decorated similarly to show off their holiday spirit.

“This city always goes all out for Christmas,” Tony said to Thor as he took a turn, moving them away from the congested streets and toward the ramps to get them out of the business district.

There were lights and decorations to see along the way. There was Christmas music playing in the car at a moderate volume as they finally got away from the city to go look at the more residential areas. 

None of them had any idea where they were going, but Tony had looked up something before they had even left. He followed JARVIS’s directions toward their mystery destination, though he pulled off of the route to drive through random neighborhoods from time to time. They would tour around and admire all of the decorations and various Christmas light displays. 

They came to a pause at one house with almost too many lawn decorations, which included nutcrackers, angels, and a complete ensemble of Santa, his sleigh, and all of his reindeer. There were lit up candy canes lining the driveway, and gargantuan wreathes with bright LED lights lining the front of the second story of the home.

“They must have kids,” Clint mused as they drove slowly by the house.

“Or are, perhaps, most enthusiastic about the holiday season,” Thor added on. “Lady Darcy was certainly generous in her decorations of Lady Jane’s work area.”

“Lady Darcy sounds like someone I need to meet,” Tony commented as he pulled up to the next decorated house. “Do you think she’d like to come to the SI Christmas Party? It’s not too late to send out a last minute invite.”

“She made mention that she has a different celebration to attend to,” Thor replied, eyes lighting up as he took in the new sight outside his window. “Perhaps next year.”

“When is Jane flying in?” Clint asked.

“She is due to arrive on Thursday evening,” Thor answered, and the fondness and affection in his voice was transparently clear. He twisted in his seat and grinned back at Bruce. “She said she has something she would like you to review, if you are willing.”

Bruce smiled. “Sure, that’s fine,” he said. “She could just email it, so she wouldn’t have to wait.”

“I believe she wants to be present when you look it over,” Thor replied, his grin softening into a fond little smile. “She does love her scientific discussions.”

“Nerd talk,” Clint teased, but he was smiling. He lightly jostled Bruce when the physicist sent him a faux-stern look.

They finished browsing around the neighborhood and Tony returned them to the main road. This time, he didn’t deviate from JARVIS’s directions. 

For about the next twenty minutes, they traveled without conversation, listening to the holiday music coming from the speakers. Clint laid his head down on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce let his fingers lightly scratch against the archer’s scalp or gently card through his hair. Clint cozied up to Bruce as close as he could manage with their seatbelts in place, leaning happily into the intimate touch.

Bruce was drifting off in his thoughts, but was brought back to the present when he heard Thor speak. “Holiday Spectacular?” he said.

Bruce glanced out the window just in time to see a sign with those words zip by. He reluctantly let Clint lift his head from his shoulder, but let his hand trail down from Clint’s hair down to his neck, where he began to gently massage the muscles there.

Clint shot him a warm look of gratitude, and Bruce couldn’t help but smile back.

Tony turned off of the road and joined in the long queue of cars slowly moving forward. “JARVIS says that this is one of the more popular areas to look at lights around here,” he explained, glancing over at Thor. “Apparently, lots of families come from neighboring counties to see it.”

“That would explain the traffic,” Clint replied softly, all but purring from Bruce’s neck massage.

Bruce saw Tony glance at them in the rearview mirror, probably ready to tell them to break up whatever it was they were doing. No rebuke came, so he must not have seen anything too bad. The engineer’s eyes locked with his, and when Bruce raised an eyebrow, Tony returned his attention to the road in front of him. Bruce smiled quietly to himself.

They passed by a wooden sign telling them to turn their radio to a particular station. Tony changed over the radio to the specific station, and a moment later, they came upon the first house of the tour.

Strings of lights decorated the house and the two large trees on either side of the home. They twinkled in time to the instrumental holiday music on the radio, shining happily to the tune of “Jingle Bell Rock.” There were outlines of ice skaters—made up of lights—that seemed to circle around a small ring of lights on the ground, presumably meant to be a small pond. The lights jumped from one figure to the next, giving the illusion that the figure was actually moving.

Bruce felt Clint throw an arm around his shoulders and lightly jostle him at the sight of the skaters, no doubt thinking about their date last week. Bruce felt himself smile and lean more into Clint’s open arm, letting one of his hands come to a rest on the archer’s knee. The action was rewarded with a light squeeze, and Bruce melted a little more into the embrace.

Up front, Thor was staring adamantly out the window. “This is magnificent,” he said, and Bruce could hear the wide smile in his voice. The Asgardian twisted away from the window to look over at Tony. “This is an entire village of the like?” he asked eagerly.

“It is,” Tony confirmed as he kept up with the slow moving queue of cars. 

Thor beamed radiantly and looked back out the window. “Magnificent,” he said again.

The next house was completely decked out in blue lights. The front porch had the icicle lights, blinking with the rest of the house. But when the song on the radio changed over to “Carol of the Bells,” all of the other lights started to glow steadily while the icicles faded. With each bell from the song, one of the icicles started to blink in a way to look like it was dripping water in time with the music.

They all grinned at the sight. “It is a wonder that Lady Darcy did not do this with the lights she strung,” Thor mused.

Tony grinned and lightly patted the demigod’s arm. “Remind me to show you a video when we get back to the tower,” he said as they continued past the house. “This guy had his entire house set up to perform a light show to a version of this song. It was awesome.”

Clint smirked. “It’s a wonder that you didn’t set up something like that on the tower,” he remarked.

In the driver’s seat, Tony scoffed. “Seeing it once is cool, but I could never be a neighbor to that guy in the video, let alone be responsible for it,” he replied. “Besides,” he went on, a hint of smugness appearing in his voice, “the tower already has some of the best decorations in the business side of the city.”

“Not to boast or anything,” Bruce teased.

“Oh no, I’m totally boasting,” Tony replied, glancing over his shoulder to shoot Bruce a triumphant grin that had the other three riders laughing.

They toured the entire neighborhood, driving past house after house of impressive lights and lawn decorations. It was amazing what this neighborhood did together, working in tandem to create a festive show for everyone to come and enjoy.

They finished up their tour on a house with the words _Happy Holidays!_ written out in Christmas lights, shining brightly against the otherwise dark backdrop.

“That was marvelous,” Thor proclaimed as they turned back onto the main road to start heading back to the city. “Truly marvelous. Thank you for bringing us on this adventure, Tony.”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, “this was fun.”

“All part of the holiday education,” Tony replied with a nudge at Thor, but he sounded like he was smiling contently.

Tony changed the radio back to JARVIS’s playlist of holiday music, and they began their trek back home. A comfortable hush fell over the four of them, and Clint let his head tip back onto Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce let his fingers card gently through the archer’s hair again.

They passed by another neighborhood with more Christmas lights, and Thor asked if they could peruse the area. 

Clint kept his head on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce continued to play with his hair as he looked out at the houses that Thor was awing over. He felt himself smile, relaxing into the comfortable and peaceful atmosphere as he settled in to look at the passing Christmas lights.


	16. Eggnog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

“It’s about time!” Tony called as the elevator doors finally opened on the communal floor. 

Steve, Natasha, and Sam Wilson all piled out of the elevator without their luggage, meaning that they had already stopped off on a different floor to drop off their things. They had wrapped up their time in Washington DC and had made it back in time for Tony’s impromptu get-together planned for eight o’clock.

“What kept you guys?” Tony asked, getting to his feet.

“Some of us have to work for a living,” Sam joked as he stepped into the room. He and Tony exchanged a firm handshake. “Thank you for the invite to your Christmas shindig, Tony,” he went on. 

Tony waved him off. “The more, the merrier,” he replied. “Glad you could get away from that work you have to join us.”

“Gotta burn through the last of my vacation time somehow,” Sam replied with a grin before he started going around the room to greet everyone else.

When he got to Bruce, Sam smiled brightly. “Thanks for making those pies for Steve to bring along to Gramma’s holiday party,” he said. “I don’t know how many people asked for the recipe.”

“Family secret,” Bruce replied with a smile as he shook hands with Sam. “I’m glad it went over well.”

Sam’s smile turned into a grin. “Well, I think so many people tried it because Captain America waltzed in with apple pies,” he disclosed as he glanced over at Steve, who smiled a little sheepishly. “Can’t turn down the All-American Hero when he comes in with an All-American apple pie.”

Once the greetings were completed, they all settled in on the various pieces of furniture again. Steve and Natasha revealed their hand-painted ornaments they had worked on at the workshop Sam had coordinated over the weekend for his veterans.

“We had a great showing this year,” Sam explained as the two ornaments were passed around the room. “There weren’t any extra figurines to bring back, unfortunately. There was just enough for Natasha to have one.”

“No worries, man,” Tony replied. He glanced over at Natasha and Steve. “Go on and hang them on the tree,” he said, gesturing at the Christmas tree in the corner of the room before he put his arm around Pepper.

“Where’s Rhodes?” Natasha asked as she passed where Tony and Pepper were seated comfortably together in each other’s space.

“He should be here within the hour,” Pepper replied.

“I had to talk him in to flying here,” Tony added.

Steve turned away from the tree to glance back at Tony. “Do you mean flying in as in _jet_ or as in _suit?”_ he asked.

Tony scoffed good-naturedly. “Like that’s even a question,” he retorted, but his tone was teasing. “I had to make a deal with the Air Force to give the Iron Patriot armor a full inspection before they gave Rhodey clearance to fly in.”

He then rose to his feet and grinned at the group at large. “But,” he said, drawing out the word, “Rhodey said we could get started before he gets here.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “There are drinks in the fridge, but I’m going to break out the eggnog.”

“Uh oh,” Pepper murmured from her spot on the love seat, drawing a laugh from the room. She smiled and let Tony pull her to her feet to help him get everything ready.

As Tony led Pepper off into the next room, Bruce glanced over at Clint. “Think I can talk you into making some of your cider?” he asked softly.

Clint grinned and leaned in. “Only if you make your hot chocolate a bit later,” he replied.

“Deal,” Bruce said with a smile, even as the lights overhead dimmed. When they glanced over, they saw Pepper and Tony exchange a brief kiss in the spotlight before the lights returned to normal.

Once the pair was in the kitchen, Sam glanced over at Steve with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s everywhere,” Steve said with a sigh. 

“Expect to get kissed by anyone at any time of day,” Natasha added on as a warning, her voice grim.

Sam stared at her for a moment longer before he glanced back at the mistletoe hanging in the kitchen doorway, looking perfectly okay with the situation.

Clint grinned before gently patting Bruce’s knee and rising to his feet. “I’m gonna go make some cider,” he announced to the room. “And Tony’s not gonna spike it,” he added in a louder voice.

“No promises,” Tony’s voice immediately came from the kitchen, and everyone grinned.

A few minutes later, the rest of the group was given permission to enter the kitchen to grab their drinks. There was a big batch of eggnog prepared, along with some of Clint’s apple cider. There were mugs lining the counter nearby, and everyone helped themselves to a drink. 

Once they all had a mug, they headed back to the living room and settled back down in their seats. Clint laid an arm over Bruce’s shoulders once he had flopped down next to the physicist, each of them armed with a mug of apple cider. 

Pepper took a small sip of her eggnog, and then glanced over at Tony. “Could you have made this stronger?” she asked in a mildly sarcastic tone.

“I’m sure I can,” Tony replied with a smirk. He glanced across the room at Steve, who was sitting with his own mug of eggnog next to Sam. “Let me know if you’re able to feel anything after a few cups,” he said with a wicked grin. “You too, Thor,” he tacked on, peering over at the demigod.

Thor smiled and lifted his mug. “While this beverage may be flavorful, it is quite weak in comparison to Asgardian mead,” he replied.

“Don’t take that as a challenge, dear,” Pepper said, patting Tony on the knee.

Roughly twenty minutes later, a streak of light shot by the window, and Tony immediately beamed. “Rhodey’s here!” he said cheerfully. 

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the elevator arrived with the sound of jingle bells, and Colonel Rhodes stepped out with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“Happy holidays, everyone,” Rhodey greeted them as he stepped into the living room, a smile on his face. He set down his bag before he accepted a hug from Tony and Pepper. “Sorry I’m late.”

“We’re glad you could make it,” Pepper said, giving him a light squeeze before she stepped back.

“Now hurry up and grab some eggnog,” Tony said, nudging Rhodey toward the kitchen. “I have a toast to make.”

Rhodey obligingly went to grab a mug of the eggnog.

By the time he got back, Tony and Pepper had returned to the loveseat, though Tony was still standing. He lifted his mug. “A toast,” he proclaimed, and everyone else lifted their own mugs of different beverages as side conversations died down. Once the focus of the room was on him, Tony went on. “I’d like to thank everyone for coming here tonight. We don’t do this nearly as often as we should, but between the super heroics and our day jobs, it’s hard to find time to come together to just enjoy each other’s company. They say the holidays are for tradition, so hopefully we can make this a tradition of our own.” He raised his cup a little higher. “To love and friendship,” he said, smiling genuinely as he looked around the room. “There is no group of people I’d rather spend the holidays with. Cheers, everybody.” 

The clinking of glassware and responses of _cheers_ filled the air before everyone took a drink. 

Rhodey made a noise around his sip, and once he had swallowed, he shot a look at Tony. The engineer only smirked, and Rhodey rolled his eyes before taking another, longer drink.

The next two hours were filled with drinking and conversation. Everyone had loosened up with and without the aid of the heavily spiked eggnog, so laughter rang freely through the room. Clint had closed the small amount of space between the two of them and they were now curled close together. 

Tony, well on his way to getting tipsy, asked Bruce to make his hot chocolate for the group, since Sam and Rhodey hadn’t had a chance to taste it before. So Bruce had abandoned his warm and cozy spot next to Clint to whip up a batch of hot chocolate, and everyone took a break from the booze to enjoy a cup.

As they were finishing up their mugs of hot chocolate, Rhodey turned a look over at Tony. “Night’s still young,” he commented. “Think you’re up for a drinking game?”

Thor and Tony had immediately and eagerly agreed.

“I know a holiday one,” Sam offered from his lounged position on the sofa. “If anyone has a Santa hat, you stick it on one of the top corners of the TV. Then you watch a movie, and every time it looks like someone’s wearing it, you take a drink.”

Agreement rang through the room, and Tony managed to find a Santa Claus hat to place on the left corner of the television. Once everyone had replenished their eggnog or other desired beverage, JARVIS turned on a Christmas movie, and the drinking very quickly began anew.

“Steve, Bruce, you have to play, too,” Tony said, giving them each a mug of eggnog. 

“Okay,” Steve replied with a casual shrug, still completely sober. He turned a glance over at Bruce, and his eyes held a secretive spark of mischief. “Bruce, you up for the challenge?”

Next to the captain, Sam hid his knowing smirk behind a sip of his drink.

Bruce, like the soldier, could not feel the effects of alcohol since the serum burned it off almost immediately. Steve was purposely egging Tony on, and Bruce managed to keep a straight face as he accepted the mug of eggnog from Tony. “I guess so,” he replied casually, and Steve bit back a smile.

“Oh sweet,” Clint said with a grin as he rounded the sofa and sat back down next to Bruce, leaving virtually no space between them, “you’re playing, too.” He clinked his own mug of eggnog against Bruce’s before he threw an arm around Bruce’s shoulders to cuddle closer.

The movie progressed, and with everyone focused on the aspect of the game, it was nearly impossible to follow the plot of the film. Everyone relaxed even further, and Bruce found Clint becoming a bit more affectionate. The archer was curled even closer to him, and when he put a hand down low on Bruce’s thigh, Bruce could only smile and place his hand over Clint’s.

Before the game could turn into a competition to see who held their liquor the best (which included the demigod, the super-soldier, and the gamma-enhanced scientist), they decided to call it a night. No one was drunk, but there were definitely a few people who would be feeling it in the morning.

Just after midnight, good-nights were exchanged between them before they started to leave in small groups via the elevator. Bruce helped clean up a bit with Steve, setting the different mugs and glasses down in the sink to be cleaned up after some sleep. They briefly tidied up the kitchen before they returned to the living room.

Sam and Clint were laughing about something when they stepped into the room. Clint beamed when he saw Bruce and got to his feet. “Alright, kids,” the archer said as he linked fingers with Bruce, “we’re out. Good night.” He gave a loose salute before they headed to the elevator.

Once they were behind the elevator doors, alone, Clint cozied back up to Bruce. “Wanna stay over tonight?” he asked in a low voice.

“Sure,” Bruce replied with a smile, “just let me grab—”

He was cut off by a heated kiss, and Bruce all but melted against Clint as he returned the kiss as hard as he was getting it. Clint pushed him until Bruce’s back was against the wall of the elevator and Bruce could only think to pull Clint closer.

The elevator stopped, and once the doors had opened, they stumbled out, still attached at the lips. Bruce’s back hit the door, and his soft gasp gave Clint’s tongue the perfect opportunity to dive in between his parted lips. A sound like a sigh and a groan escaped from him and he ran his hand into Clint’s hair to pull him in further. 

A moment later, Bruce reluctantly let go of his handful of Clint’s hair to fumble for the doorknob. They nearly fell into the room once the door opened, and Bruce let Clint lead them around the suite, both of them tugging at the other’s shirt.

They moved through another doorway, breaking the kiss only long enough for Bruce to pull Clint’s t-shirt over his head. Their lips instantly reconnected, Bruce letting his hands run over the archer’s powerful arms and shoulders as Clint’s fingers deftly unbuttoned Bruce’s shirt. His button-down soon joined Clint’s shirt on the bedroom floor.

The feeling of Clint’s fingers touching him, running through his chest hair, sent heat pooling down in his stomach in a way that had nothing to do with the drinks from the night. Clint led them around the room again until the backs of Bruce’s legs hit Clint’s bed. 

Clint gently pushed Bruce down, and Bruce dragged him down with him. The archer caught himself before his full weight crashed down on Bruce’s body, and they met each other’s eyes. They were both breathing hard, naked from the waist up, and the heavy desire in Clint’s eyes sent heat rushing down Bruce’s body.

Their lips reconnected again, heated and hungry, and this time when their tongues met, Bruce tasted eggnog.

His eyes quickly shot open.

Bruce turned his head to break the kiss. “Clint?” he asked.

Clint only made a humming sound as his kisses moved down Bruce’s jaw to his neck.

When he felt the archer lightly bite at the skin just below the neckline of a t-shirt, Bruce lost his ability to speak. He quickly had to remember how to form sentences before he could go on. “Clint,” he said again, the name coming out breathless, “how much of that eggnog did you have?”

The question made Clint pause, and despite how much Bruce wanted the man to continue, he wanted to make sure they were both on the same page—and more importantly, if the other man was still in a state to be making this sort of decision.

Clint drew back and met Bruce’s eyes, sharpness and clarity in his heated gaze. “Just one,” he replied.

“Before or after Tony spiked it?” Bruce asked.

“Which time?”

“Clint.”

Clint smiled and pressed a soft kiss against the tip of Bruce’s nose. “I’m feeling completely fine,” he answered. “I want this, but if you want to wait, that’s fine, too. I want what you want.”

He paused for a moment as a look of concern suddenly touched his features. “We’re not moving too fast, are we?” he asked, looking worried that he had stepped over the line.

Now that they had calmed down for the moment, Bruce could breathe and finally think a little more clearly…or, as clearly as he could with Clint’s hard body pressed against him. Bruce smiled and let his hand run back through Clint’s hair. “We’ve been moving toward this for months,” he answered. He pulled Clint down for a deep kiss, and he felt the tension begin to leak out of the other man’s body. “I want this, too,” Bruce breathed against Clint’s mouth once they had broken apart.

Clint grinned his excitement and returned his attention to the spot on Bruce’s collarbone that he had been mouthing at. “Good,” he said with an almost predatory growl.

Bruce nearly gasped at the delightful pressure of teeth against skin and unconsciously bucked his hips. The noise Clint made in response would be with Bruce for a _very_ long time.

“But we’ve got to take it slow,” Bruce panted as one of Clint’s hands ran through the hair on his chest again. Clint pulled his face from Bruce’s shoulder at the serious tone, and their eyes met. “I haven’t done this in a long time, not since before…”

The horrified look that Clint gave him almost made Bruce huff a laugh. He probably would have if the gravity of the situation had been lighter. He didn’t feel his alter ego shifting in the back of his mind, so the dangerous green haze was at least a safe distance away for the moment.

“I don’t think anything will happen,” Bruce reassured him, letting his hand move down from Clint’s hair and over the muscles in his back, over deliciously warm skin, “but we need to take it slow, just in case.”

The look Clint gave him sent shivers through Bruce’s body, and when Clint gently rolled his hips, he gasped softly. The archer leaned down, close to his ear, and Bruce trembled when he felt a hot breath hit his skin.

“Babe,” Clint said in a low rumbling tone, “there is _so_ much I can do with slow.”

This time, their tongues met again, and Bruce could still taste the eggnog in the other man’s mouth. Added with the pressure pushed against him and the heat swirling in his belly, Bruce knew it would take self-control perhaps beyond himself to follow his own advice.

With one final dirty swipe of tongues, Clint returned to his place at Bruce’s collarbone, alternatively biting and licking at the skin there, leaving Bruce to cling desperately to him. He was left with an aftertaste of eggnog and Clint on his lips, and Bruce finally let himself sink down into Clint’s intoxicating touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to bump up the rating for obvious reasons.


	17. Candy Canes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Bruce woke up slowly, caught in a cocoon of warmth that he wasn’t quite ready to abandon just yet. He could feel a solid heat pressed against him, clinging to his body. 

He finally let his eyes slip open and he saw Clint’s head resting on his bare shoulder. One of the archer’s muscular arms was thrown across his torso while the other one was tucked into the narrow space between their naked bodies. Their legs were tangled together, and despite how they were pressed against each other in a way that should have been awkward, Bruce was completely comfortable.

He was now even less inclined to get up.

In the muted light of morning, Bruce took a moment to just admire the softness of Clint’s face while he slept. His handsome features were just so relaxed that Bruce couldn’t help but stare, committing the image to memory.

The arm tucked under Clint’s body curled to cradle Clint a little closer. A soft and sleepy noise escaped from the archer at the movement, but he settled easily and hugged Bruce a little tighter in return. Once Clint had returned to sleep, Bruce let his hand gently stroke along the hard and muscular plane of the archer’s back, the same back he had been clutching to desperately last night.

The memories sent a small spark of heat straight down into his belly.

While his hand moved lightly over Clint’s bare skin again, Clint started to wake up. His eyes groggily opened, staring out at nothing for a moment, but a lazy smile crossed his face when Bruce resumed his gentle stroking. The archer curled more into Bruce. “You’re really warm,” he mumbled as he twisted his head to press a kiss against Bruce’s bare shoulder.

“That’s the radiation,” Bruce replied softly.

Clint tipped his head just slightly before he reluctantly rolled over onto his back. He twisted around—Bruce couldn’t help but stare at his back when the covers slipped down to his waist—and plucked his hearing aids from the nightstand. He put them in and turned them on, snapping his fingers to test that they were working, before he immediately curled back up against Bruce.

“Say that again,” he said, tucking his head under Bruce’s chin.

Bruce smiled and pressed a kiss against Clint’s messy hair. “The radiation boosted my core temperature,” he said again. 

“I see nothing wrong with that,” Clint replied with a smile, snuggling closer to Bruce’s body.

They settled against one another, enjoying the feeling of skin against skin. JARVIS slowly began to untint the windows, letting in the sunlight of the Wednesday morning.

Finally, Clint shifted his weight just a little. “What time is it?” he asked quietly without bothering to lift his head.

Bruce glanced over at the alarm clock on the nearby nightstand. Tony had manipulated the clock to vibrate in addition to making an actual sound as an alarm. The vibrations could be felt on the bed, too, which was enough to wake Clint up from a dead sleep without having his hearing aids in.

“It’s a little after eight,” Bruce answered, turning back to Clint. “The others might be up by now.”

“And I bet Tony is planning to have some kind of huge breakfast,” Clint added, “in honor of Sam and Rhodey’s visit.”

 _“Indeed, sir,”_ JARVIS confirmed. _“The breakfast is slated to be delivered by nine o’clock.”_

The couple remained in the bed, reluctant to get up. “Gives us a little under an hour,” Clint said conversationally, but the way his hand ran through the hair on Bruce’s chest told him that the comment was less than innocent.

“Yep,” Bruce replied simply, feeling a smile begin to tug at his lips.

Clint leaned a little closer and licked along Bruce’s neck, making him shiver. He pressed a heated kiss to Bruce’s jaw. “Come shower with me,” he said in a low voice, more of a suggestion than a question.

“We’ll be late to breakfast.”

“So?”

Bruce didn’t have a counterargument to that, and let himself be pulled from the bed and into the adjoining bathroom.

==

Later that afternoon, after he had spent some time in the lab to check in on some of his experiments, Bruce returned to the communal floor. He entered the kitchen, ready to begin some of his holiday baking.

After the huge breakfast that they had only been fifteen minutes late to, Clint had gone down to the gym with Natasha and Thor to put in a workout. Steve and Sam were out in the city for the afternoon. Rhodey and Tony had gone down to the workshop to run diagnostics on the Iron Patriot suit, and Pepper was in meetings until the close of business. 

All-in-all, it was a chance for some alone time without being the only one in the tower, so Bruce seized the opportunity.

On the counter, he lay out bag after bag of different types of chocolate chips. He had two major things he wanted to knock off of his list today, and they both included an unhealthy amount of chocolate. Next to the bags, he set down boxes of candy canes. He had ended up buying four boxes of the candies, and only part of the reason had been for baking.

He gathered three of the boxes into his arms and wandered out of the kitchen and into the living room. The Christmas tree’s lights were turned off for the time being, but it was still a gorgeous sight to behold. There was an almost muted bit of sunlight coming in from the window to give the ornaments some extra sparkle, and when he glanced out the window, he saw that clouds were beginning to roll in. It must have been the next system of snow coming through.

Past the tree was the fireplace, and above the fireplace was the mantle. The fireplace wasn’t a traditional one, with there being no chimney or the need for wood, but it could still house a fire. There were fireplaces like it in every suite.

Tony had hung the stockings up in a way that ensured everyone’s got to hang, despite the limited space. He must’ve either bought or made some metal hooks—decorated like candy canes—to hang the stockings at different heights so all sixteen could fit.

Bruce opened the first box and proceeded to place two candy canes into twelve of the sixteen stockings, since JARVIS and the bots couldn’t very well enjoy them. He saw that someone else had also been putting things in the stockings, too. The sight made Bruce smile.

With that done, Bruce took the two empty boxes and the six extra candy canes with him back to the kitchen. “JARVIS,” he began, “could you turn on some music, please?”

 _“Of course, doctor,”_ the AI replied, and holiday music began to softly play from the overhead speakers.

Bruce smiled as he tossed out the empty boxes. “Thank you,” he replied, returning to the counter with the rest of the candy canes.

He set them aside and searched the drawers until he found the pestle and mortar. After unwrapping two of the candies, he broke them down into smaller pieces before he used the kitchen tool to grind them into smaller chunks.

Next, he pulled out two large cookie sheets and lined them both with wax paper. He found a decently sized bowl and dumped a full bag of the semi-sweet chocolate chips into it. The bowl went into the microwave for thirty seconds.

Once the timer beeped, Bruce pulled the bowl out to stir the slowly melting chips. He repeated the process until he had a bowl of completely melted chocolate.

Carefully, he poured the melted chocolate out onto one of the lined cookie sheets, making sure everything spread evenly. He repeated everything until the second cookie sheet had a layer of dark chocolate, and then did the same thing again with the white chocolate, adding just a hint of peppermint extract.

Once the melted white chocolate had been poured over the cooling dark chocolate on both cookie sheets, he sprinkled some of the crushed candy canes on top so it would stick. He ensured that the candy cane chunks were spread evenly across the chocolate, and when he was finished, both of the cookie sheets went into the refrigerator to harden.

With the peppermint bark cooling in the fridge, Bruce started to break up more of the candy canes into smaller pieces. Humming along to the holiday tune playing over the speakers, he pulled the measuring cups from a drawer. He found a pot and placed it on the stove, not turning on the burner just yet. Measurements of milk chocolate and dark chocolate were taken, and both were tossed into the pot.

In two smaller baking pans, he placed some more wax paper and set them aside. He returned to the stove, adding a few more ingredients to the pot before he turned on the burner to begin melting everything down. He stirred the chocolate around, adding a small dash of peppermint extract once everything was melted. He continued to stir, and the kitchen took on a scent of mint chocolate.

While he was transferring the fudge into the awaiting baking pans, he heard the sound of jingle bells. He realized it wasn’t part of a song when, a moment later, someone’s voice in the next room demanded “Who’s baking?”

A smile touched Bruce’s lips as Clint and Natasha rounded the corner of the room, taking turns getting through the doorway and past the mistletoe unscathed. They both looked freshly showered and loose from their workout.

Their eyes found Bruce, and then they looked to see what he was making. “Is that fudge?” Clint asked.

“Peppermint fudge,” Bruce replied, smiling when Clint came over. They shared a brief but tender kiss. When they broke apart, he glanced over at Natasha and smiled. “I remember you both like peppermint.”

A tiny hint of a smile touched Natasha’s lips and she looked at Clint. “He’s a keeper,” she said to the archer, who beamed happily and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s waist.

“You bet he is,” Clint responded proudly before he pressed himself against Bruce’s back, letting his chin perch on Bruce’s shoulder. “Need help?”

Bruce felt himself blushing slightly at the feeling of the archer pressed intimately close against his back, but he knew he was smiling. He kept sprinkling the candy cane pieces onto the fudge. “If you want, you and Natasha can test the peppermint bark in the fridge.”

“You’re the best,” Clint said reverently, pressing a kiss against his boyfriend’s cheek before he stepped eagerly away.

The cooled cookie sheets were pulled from the refrigerator and the peppermint fudge took its place. They broke apart a few small pieces of the bark and tasted it.

“It’s perfect,” Natasha said as she chewed her piece. She glanced over at Bruce. “Are you planning something for this?”

Bruce continued to break the giant slabs of bark into smaller pieces. “I’m going to put some in everyone’s stocking,” he admitted. “The fudge will be out for everyone to enjoy, though. I’m actually going to make some more here in a second.”

“Would you like some help?” she asked.

Bruce considered all of what needed to be done. “If one of you would like to start putting the peppermint bark in little zip lock bags and the other wants to chop up some nuts, I’d really appreciate it.”

So while Bruce started making the next batch of fudge at the stove, Natasha chopped walnuts and Clint divvied out the peppermint bark into twelve bags. The archer took the bags out into the living room to place in the stockings, and when he got back to the kitchen, he was grinning. “Did you add the candy canes to the stockings?” he asked.

“You’re not supposed to peek,” Natasha pointed out, glancing up briefly from her work at the cutting board.

“They’re hanging from the top of the stockings,” Clint protested in his defense, moving across the kitchen to invade Bruce’s space again. “Was it you?” he asked again.

“It was,” Bruce confirmed, stirring the melting ingredients in the pot. He reached over and handed Clint one of the extra candy canes. “A token of my gratitude,” he said with a smile.

Clint beamed and took the cane. “You’re too kind, doctor,” he replied, planting a kiss against Bruce’s cheek before he went off to unwrap his gifted candy.

Bruce gave one to Natasha, too, when she poured some of the chopped nuts into the pot. The rest Bruce poured over the fudge once it was in the containers.

When everything was cleaned up and the second batch of fudge was put in the refrigerator with the peppermint fudge to chill, he joined Natasha and Clint at the table, slipping into the chair next to the archer. Clint grinned at him and pressed a kiss against Bruce’s mouth, leaving the taste of peppermint from the candy cane on his lips.


	18. Sledding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

The warm body Bruce was spooned up against moved, bringing him out of a very pleasant sleep. A drowsy noise of protest escaped from him and he pulled Clint’s body closer, pressing his face against the back of the archer’s neck. 

When Clint shifted again, like he wanted to get up, Bruce let one of his arms release his hold on Clint. He finger-spelled _sleep_ out before he wrapped his arm back around Clint’s warmth, and he felt Clint huff a laugh.

“I need to see something,” Clint replied. 

He would have gone on if Bruce hadn’t pressed a finger against his lips in a shushing motion. Bruce felt Clint smirk against his finger.

Bruce really shouldn’t have been surprised when Clint licked his finger, but in his defense, he was still half-asleep. So when he felt the unexpected wet heat against his finger, he startled. 

Clint laughed in victory and rolled out of his grip, leaving only a warm spot on the mattress where he had been seconds before.

As he heard the sound of moving sheets and felt Clint get up from the mattress, Bruce finally rolled onto his back and brought his hands up to rub at his eyes. He heard footsteps padding across the carpet.

Bruce finally let his arms rest above his head against the pillow as his eyes slipped open. He squinted up at the ceiling, noting the muted glow of morning, but it looked a little too muted. His eyes drifted blearily toward the nightstand nearby, and he groaned when he saw that it was barely seven in the morning. 

From across the room, Clint’s voice came. “I could get used to this sight,” the archer said with an air of both smugness and affection.

Bruce glanced over at where Clint was standing across the room in nothing but his boxers, staring almost hungrily at Bruce. He knew he must have been quite a sight, naked in the archer’s bed with the covers pooling over his waist, leaving his chest exposed with his arms still resting over his head. 

Instead of trying to go for seduction, Bruce just raised an eyebrow, silently asking why Clint had gotten up.

Clint smiled at him and gestured toward the window. “It’s snowed against last night,” he said.

“You got up to see if it snowed?” Bruce asked, squinting over at the window.

“Yeah,” Clint replied, beaming with excitement as he stepped away from the window and back toward the bed. He slipped his boxers back off before he climbed back under the covers, curling up next to Bruce with his head pillowed on his arm. “I think I’m gonna talk everyone into going sledding later.”

“Super,” Bruce replied, rolling back onto his side so he was facing Clint. He pulled the covers back up to their shoulders. “But that’s later. Right now, go back to sleep.”

Before his eyes slipped shut, he caught the satisfied smirk on Clint’s lips. “Makes sense that you’re tired, considering how late you stayed up.”

“Like you were in no way responsible for that,” Bruce murmured back, trying and failing to keep himself from smiling.

“I am completely innocent,” Clint answered, laughter in his voice.

Bruce snorted a laugh and scooted a little closer to Clint under the covers.

A single finger poked him in the shoulder. “Hey,” the archer whispered. When Bruce begrudgingly opened his eyes again, Clint was smiling fondly at him. 

The hand that wasn’t currently pillowed under Clint’s head lifted until his palm was turned toward the archer’s face. In a single motion, he let his fingers and thumb come into contact without bending the knuckles of either. With the action, Clint’s eyes closed.

Clint did it again before he looked back at Bruce, smiling warmly. “That’s the sign for sleep,” he explained, “so you can just do that instead of having to spell it.”

The impromptu sign language lesson brought an affectionate smile to Bruce’s face, and he dragged one of his arms out of the sanctuary of warmth under the covers. Instead of turning his palm toward his own face, however, he reached out and let it face Clint’s. He signed _sleep_ toward the archer’s face, and the laughter that came from Clint made Bruce grin a little like a fool.

“Point taken,” Clint said, laughter still ringing in his words as he curled up against Bruce.

Bruce gladly welcomed the other man against him, wrapping his arms back around him and feeling sleep begin to overtake him once more. “One more hour,” he whispered after he ensured Clint could see his lips.

Clint gave a happy little sigh. “One more hour,” he agreed, letting their legs tangle and his arm drape over Bruce’s waist as he tucked his head under Bruce’s chin.

==

After breakfast, everyone but Pepper (who had meetings all day today) packed into two cars, Clint driving one and Tony driving the other. Clint made Bruce sit in the passenger seat despite Bruce offering the seat to Natasha or Thor. The spy and demigod had given him similar looks before they had pointedly climbed into the back seat.

Clint had gone out at some point in the past few days and had bought enough sleds for everyone. They were the plastic kind that stacked on top of one another, and when he had shown them off, he had bemoaned the fact that these were the only adult sized ones they had. He had apparently wanted to get the Avengers-themed sleds, but they were only available in kid size.

Only eight of the bright yellow sleds were packed for the trip, since Pepper couldn’t come and Jane wasn’t due until later that evening, as her flight had been delayed due to the snow.

They made the forty minute drive out into the rural country, taking the same back roads Bruce and Clint had taken the first time they had made this trip.

Finally, they reached their destination and Clint pulled over with Tony pulling in behind him. They all piled out of the two vehicles.

The sleds were divvied out and Clint grinned at the group. Everyone was dressed in their winter things, and Bruce was pleased to see that Clint was wearing the scarf he had bought for him on their outing last Friday. 

“This way,” Clint said, leading the group into the woods.

They moved carefully along the wooded area, wary of slipping on both the snow and anything under it. 

As they were walking, Clint glanced at the snow around them. “Oh,” he said, sounding slightly disheartened, “Hulk’s footprints are gone. The snow must have melted before this past storm came through.”

The rest of the group glanced over at Bruce, and it became clear to him that they hadn’t known that he had transformed recently. “Hulk was restless after the last mission,” he explained with a mild shrug. “Clint and I came out here last Thursday.”

“We made snow angels,” Clint said with a bright smile, doubling back to take hold of Bruce’s hand. “We had a blast.”

They made it to the clearing and paused before the winter scene, taking in the view of the meadow beyond the woods. It was just as breathtaking as it had been the first time they were here. The snow across the field was completely untouched, completely perfect.

Bruce noticed a fallen tree that hadn’t been there last time, and he glanced over at Clint.

The archer offered him a sheepish little smile. “Hulk got excited with a snowball,” he explained softly, just for him to hear.

“Oh,” Bruce replied, peering back over at the fallen tree.

The eight of them jumped across the frozen creek and began to trek across the meadow to the other side of the large field, where the hill was.

“How did you find this place?” Tony asked at some point when they were about halfway across the field. 

Clint turned a grin over his shoulder back at Tony. “Google,” he replied. He looked back at the hill before them and held out his arms. “It’s perfect. Anywhere else we could go sledding, we’d have to deal with people, which means dealing with fans, which means no time for sledding.”

“Glad to see you have your priorities straight,” Rhodey mused, and Clint grinned good-naturedly as others from the group laughed.

The climb up the hill was met with only a few slips and slides, but they all made it to the top unscathed.

“Right,” Clint said after a moment, his hands triumphantly on his hips. He glanced over at Thor. “You haven’t been sledding before, have you?”

“Nay,” the Asgardian replied. He held up the sled in his grasp and smiled over at the archer. “But I do believe instructions will not be necessary for this activity.”

“Man,” Sam said with a content little smile on his face and nostalgia in his voice, “I haven’t been sledding since I was a kid.”

“Me neither,” Steve replied softly, and there was something both nostalgic and sad in his voice.

Bruce realized he must have been thinking about Bucky, and he felt something in his chest ache just a little. “Well, let’s get started,” he said, hoping he wasn’t been too obviously forceful.

“Lets,” Thor agreed heartily, letting his sled drop to the snow-covered ground.

Sam gave Steve a clap on the shoulder to draw the captain out of his head. “Let’s see if you can keep up with the long-running sledding champion.”

Steve blinked out of his thoughts and glanced over at Sam. “Champion?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Sam teased with a smirk as he positioned his sled. “I was notorious as a kid for being the best at sledding in the neighborhood. I understand if you feel intimidated.”

The soldier huffed a laugh and set his sled down in the snow. “I’ll show you intimidated,” he replied, taking on the obvious challenge from his friend.

Bruce and Tony hung back for the first round of sledding, choosing to instead watch and take pictures. Sam was the first one down the hill. Bruce grinned when Clint nearly crashed into Natasha, and he wondered vaguely if he meant to do that on purpose. Judging by his laughter, the answer was yes.

Once everyone was down the hill and sliding out into the meadow, Bruce glanced briefly over at Tony. “Want to give it a shot?” he asked.

“You know,” Tony began, still staring out at the field, “I have never actually been sledding before.”

“Really?” Bruce asked, turning to look at him properly.

A humorless smile touched the engineer’s lips. “I guess it was beneath the Stark name to go out and play in the snow,” he replied.

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, thinking back on his own experiences with sledding. He hadn’t ever gone with his mother, despite the amount of snow they got in Ohio. He and his cousin had gone sledding one winter when they had randomly gotten snow in California. Despite never having been an incredibly athletic child, he did remember having a ton of fun with Jen that day.

Returning to the present, Bruce reached out and took hold of Tony’s sled. “Come on,” he said when Tony looked over at him.

Tony let himself be dragged over to a different part of the hill, so they wouldn’t crash into anyone walking across the meadow back toward the hill. They set their sleds down close to the ledge.

They both sat down on their sleds, and Bruce glanced back over at Tony. “Ready?”

Tony turned a grin over at him, half bravado and half childlike excitement. “Race you down.”

“You’re on,” Bruce replied with a grin of his own.

With that, they both pushed off. Tony let out a whoop of laughter as they started picking up speed, and Bruce couldn’t help but laugh. He just let gravity do the work so Tony would win their race, since he was just content to slide down the hill.

Tony reached the field long before Bruce did, and he twisted around. “Bruce, you didn’t even try!” he called as he continued to travel across the open meadow.

Bruce grinned. “Maybe you’re just that good,” he shouted back. “I bet the others will be more of a challenge.”

Bruce pulled on the strings and brought his sled to a sharp stop, nearly tipping off the sled in the process. He heard Clint bark a laugh, so Bruce let himself continue to tip over until he fell into the snow.

The sound of crunching snow, gradually getting louder, brought a smile to Bruce’s face as he stared up at the cloudy sky. A moment later, Clint appeared over him. “You stop almost as well as you stop while ice skating,” the archer commented with a grin.

Rolling his eyes, Bruce lifted his hand toward his boyfriend. When Clint grabbed his hand to pull him to his feet, Bruce instead pulled him down into the snow. A surprised noise escaped from the archer as he landed half in the snow and half on top of Bruce.

They stayed like that for a moment before Clint beamed. “Smooth,” he said before he planted a kiss against Bruce’s smiling lips.

They both got up and dusted themselves off in time to see Sam and Thor zip by, racing each other to the meadow.

Natasha and Steve were at the bottom of the hill at the supposed finish line. From where Bruce was standing, he couldn’t tell who won until Steve and Natasha proclaimed Sam the victor.

Sam gave a hoot of victory and threw his hands in the air.

Thor laughed boisterously. “Well done, Falcon,” he called as their momentum ran out and they slowed to a stop in the field. “You certainly live up to your hype.”

“I’d like to see a race between Rhodes, Sam, and Stark,” Natasha said in a loud enough voice to carry over the field.

“That _would_ be a close race,” Steve agreed.

“It’s on,” Tony declared, elbowing Rhodey. “You’re going down.”

“I get the feeling that Sam has the upper hand on us,” Rhodey said as he dutifully followed Tony up the hill.

Clint grabbed Bruce’s hand and led him up the hill. “Help me build a ramp,” he said.

“A ramp?” Bruce repeated as they marched up the hill.

“Yeah,” Clint replied enthusiastically. They came to a stop about halfway up the incline, and the archer pulled Bruce down to his knees with him. “Something to get us airborne as we sled down.”

Together, the two of them began to gather the nearby snow and form a lump. They packed it down and piled on more snow until they had a sturdy bump.

They looked up to watch the race between Tony, Sam, and Rhodey. They all knew how to move smoothly and rapidly, since all three of them used aerodynamics on a fairly regular basis. It was an impressive match, each of them flying down the hill at dangerous speeds, but Sam proved to be the victor once again.

As the rest of the group continued to sled and race each other, Bruce and Clint shaped their mound of snow into a proper ramp.

“Now to test it,” Clint said when they were finished. He turned and glanced toward the crest of the hill and promptly grinned. “Yo, Cap!”

Standing up at the top of the hill, Steve twisted and looked down at Clint and Bruce.

Once he had the captain’s attention, Clint grinned and gestured broadly at their handcrafted ramp. “Wanna test something for us?”

The rest of the team, either down in the meadow or trekking back up the hill, paused to look over at what was going on. Steve eyed the ramp, looking almost wary, but he dragged his sled over and lined it up with the mound of snow.

As Steve sat down on his sled, Clint grabbed hold of Bruce’s hand. “Come on!” the archer said excitedly, pulling Bruce along as they scurried out of the way. They stopped at a safe distance away, both smiling eagerly. Clint’s enthusiasm was contagious, it seemed.

Everyone watched Steve tip the sled over the edge, aiming straight at the ramp. Picking up speed, he hit the ramp, and he and the sled went airborne. The soldier landed in the snow about six feet down the hill, letting out a laugh of surprise as he landed and continued to slide down the rest of the hill and into the meadow.

Clint grinned triumphantly. “It works!” he said, throwing his arms up before he hugged Bruce bodily.

They all took turns going off the ramp, trying to see who could fly the furthest without falling off their sled. To everyone’s surprise, it wasn’t Sam that won that competition, but Natasha. 

They stayed out until the afternoon before they started to pack up. Clint wanted to make sure Thor had time to shower back at the tower before he had to go out and pick Jane up from the airport. 

Everyone sledded down the hill one last time, riding out as far across the field that their momentum would take them before they walked the rest of the way to the woods on the other end of the meadow. They hopped across the frozen creek and started to hike back through the wooded area to the cars, laughing and carrying on as they went.

The sleds were stored in the trunks of the two cars, and they dried off as best as they could.

“Thank you,” Thor said in between conversations, clapping a hand on Clint’s shoulder, “for bringing us here to sled this fine day. It is a most enjoyable activity.”

“This was a lot of fun,” Rhodey agreed. “I haven’t been sledding since I was a boy. Thanks for making me feel like a kid again,” he said, smiling and lightly chuffing the archer on an arm.

After a general consensus of _thank you_ sounded, Clint smiled brightly. “I’m glad everyone had a good time.”

With that, they all piled back into the cars to head home. It had been a very active morning, and with everyone sitting down again, the tiredness caught up with them and conversation was minimal.

The radio was turned on to play holiday music at a soft volume. Once they were back on the road, Bruce reached over and let his hand rest against Clint’s thigh.

In the driver’s seat, Clint smiled affectionately and let his hand lay gently over Bruce’s, giving his fingers a light squeeze as they continued down the back roads toward home.


	19. Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

“Are you busy today?” Bruce asked softly.

They were both freshly showered, still drying off. Clint was toweling off Bruce’s hair—something Bruce had actually just finished for the archer—when he spoke, and the movement came to a momentary pause. The towel was gently pulled away from Bruce’s damp locks and their eyes met.

Clint smiled. “Not really,” he answered. “I mean, aside from the group dinner tonight. What’s up?”

“How would you feel about baking with me later today?” Bruce asked. When Clint’s eyes lit up, he smiled. “I’ll even let you pick one of the recipes.”

“I didn’t need to be convinced,” Clint replied, grinning now, “but now I _really_ can’t refuse. What are we making?” 

“I’m not entirely sure yet,” Bruce admitted. He pressed a soft kiss against Clint’s smiling mouth. “I need to run down to the lab for a bit first, though, so that’ll give you time to pick out a recipe.”

“I’ll choose wisely,” Clint said solemnly with a fond smile on his lips. “See you around noon?”

Bruce smiled again and they shared a long, lingering kiss. “I’ll see you then.”

==

“So, you and Clint are dating now?” Jane asked.

They were sitting in Bruce’s lab at his desk while JARVIS ran the simulations they had spent the morning working on together.

Tony had swung by briefly, but his presence was needed for last minute plans for the Stark Industries Christmas Gala and Charity Fundraiser tomorrow night. Since then, Bruce and Jane had been discussing some of her research, specifically about areas where their specialties overlapped. They had been working at one of the empty lab tables, but had migrated to his main desk toward the end of their discussion.

Bruce glanced over at her when she had asked her question, and he followed her eyes to where her gaze was focused. He found her looking at the photograph leaning against his pen holder. It was the image Clint had set there while Bruce had been composing his Christmas card to Betty a few days ago.

He smiled at the picture. “Yeah,” he finally answered, glancing back at her. “It’s still pretty new.”

Jane smiled at him. “I’m happy for you,” she said. “Thor mentioned it when he came out to visit earlier this month, but it’s different seeing the two of you in person as a couple.” She looked back at the photo. “You look happy,” she said softly, contently. “You both do.”

Before Bruce could reply, the lab doors opened. They both turned to see Thor coming into the lab, smiling radiantly when he saw Jane. He was wearing his winter coat and was carrying Jane’s winter things. Behind him was Clint.

“My dearest Jane,” Thor said, sweeping her into an enormous hug despite the things in his arms, “are you ready to depart?”

“I guess so,” she replied with a sigh. She looked over at Bruce. “We’re going to get my dress for tomorrow.”

“That sounds like fun,” Clint said in a cheerfully sarcastic voice.

“I haven’t worn a dress in _years,”_ Jane said dismally. “It’s bound to be interesting.”

Thor gently brushed a stray lock of her hair back into place. “It shall be fine,” he reassured her with a gentle smile. “Lady Darcy is but a phone call away to assist us.”

“She demanded pictures,” Jane reminded him. “She’s going to use them for blackmail purposes, I just know it.”

Thor laughed and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “The sooner we depart, the sooner we may return,” he reasoned.

When Jane glanced longingly at the holographic screen hovering nearby, still running their simulations, Bruce smiled. “JARVIS can send the results to your phone,” he said.

With that last reassurance, Thor helped Jane into her coat before they headed toward the door.

As they were leaving, Clint sidled up to Bruce. “So,” he said lowly.

He didn’t get any further than that, as the lights suddenly dimmed. They peered over at the exit of the laboratory to find Thor and Jane standing in the spotlight. They both glanced up to see the sprig of mistletoe hanging on the outside of the lab, suspended in place by Clint’s arrow. They were both grinning when they looked back at Clint and Bruce, their eyes alight with amusement.

Clint grinned and pointedly hooked an arm around Bruce.

Jane laughed softly, but welcomed Thor’s gentle kiss.

Once the lab doors were closed, Clint turned and smiled down at Bruce, who was still sitting on his stool. “So,” he said again.

“Did you find a recipe you wanted to try together?” Bruce asked, letting one of his arms wrap around Clint and letting his hand rest against his hip.

“I did,” Clint replied. “I figured we can go get lunch and then hit up the grocery store for whatever we need.”

“That sounds good. Where did you have in mind for lunch?” Bruce inquired.

==

Their trip to the grocery store was successful. They carried their paper bags up to the communal floor and started unloading everything, setting the different ingredients along the counter in an orderly fashion. Clint hadn’t told him what he had chosen to bake with him, but they had picked up some Andes mints, which was enough of a clue.

“Okay,” Bruce said once everything they had bought was on the counter. He pulled out some of the other open ingredients they already had, like the flour and the sugar. “What did you pick to bake?”

Clint grinned and nodded toward the package of Andes mints. “I found a recipe for mint chocolate chip cookies. I couldn’t resist.”

Bruce huffed a laugh. “That sounds delicious. Would you like to make those second?”

“Second?” Clint repeated.

“We should start with the ones that will take the longest to cool,” Bruce replied, picking up the container of peanut butter.

In the bowl of the standing mixer, Bruce tossed in a premeasured amount of peanut butter. He gave Clint the shortening to measure, just to see his reaction.

Once Clint had fought with the ingredient and added it to the mixing bowl, he held out his hands with a look of disgust on his face. “You did that on purpose,” he accused.

Bruce started the mixer to cover his laughter, but Clint must have seen his shoulders slightly shaking. When Clint reached over to grab Bruce’s hand, the physicist dodged with another laugh. “Use the dish soap,” he said, keeping his hands out of reach from Clint’s greasy fingers.

“You’re evil,” Clint said as he moved to the sink, but there was a little grin on his face.

While Clint was scrubbing at his hands with probably too much dish soap, Bruce watched the mixer combine the shortening and peanut butter. “How about I do the rolling of the dough,” Bruce suggested, “so you don’t have to touch the shortening again?”

“Done deal,” Clint said immediately.

“Well,” Bruce amended, turning off the mixer to add the premeasured white and brown sugars, “you’ll need to touch it just enough to coat the dough in sugar.”

The faucet turned off. “I think I can manage that,” Clint said as he dried his hands. He then molded himself against Bruce’s back as the scientist turned the mixer back on. He pressed a kiss against his neck. “What next?” he asked.

Bruce let Clint measure out the powder ingredients while he added a few eggs, vanilla, and some milk. They stood together at the mixer and watched everything come together into the peanut butter cookie dough.

Once the dough was ready, Bruce preheated the oven and lined two large cookie sheets with parchment paper. As the oven preheated, Bruce lifted the beaters from the mixing bowl, removing the excess dough from each beater. 

He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows before he picked up a small scoop of the dough with his fingers. “The sugar is over there,” he said, nodding toward the bag of granulated sugar as he rolled the dough between his palms to create a little ball. “Can you pour some onto a plate?”

Clint did as he was asked, and Bruce set the small ball of dough into the sugar. “Now just go ahead and coat it in the sugar and then set it on the cookie sheet.”

They worked together quietly while JARVIS played holiday music overhead at a soft volume. As he was rolling the dough, Bruce started humming softly to himself. From the corner of his eye, he saw Clint smile and begin to sway lightly to the music. Bruce smiled and set another ball of dough in the sugar.

As Clint started rolling the dough around, he bumped hips with Bruce. “You gonna dance with me tomorrow night?” he asked.

Bruce glanced over at him for a moment before he looked back down at the cookie dough in the mixing bowl. “We won’t be anonymous there like we were at the ice skating rink,” he pointed out softly. He peered back over at Clint to see that he was staring at him. “If you’re okay with the general public knowing about us, that’s fine.” He smiled at the archer. “I’d love to dance with you, but it’ll do things to your reputation if everyone finds out you’re dating the Hulk.”

“I’m not dating Hulk,” Clint replied, “not really, anyway. He _did_ like cuddling in the snow, though, so maybe I am.” He paused, and then shook his head. “I don’t care about my reputation, Bruce,” he said, getting back to the topic at hand. He smiled and started to sway with the music again. “Everyone else is going to dance with their significant other,” he said.

“The media won’t be scandalized by them,” Bruce replied.

Clint grinned and bumped his hip against Bruce’s again. “What holiday season is complete without a scandal?” he asked, and Bruce laughed.

The oven beeped, signaling that the desired temperature had been reached. They finished up the first batch of cookie dough, and both cookie sheets were put into the oven. Bruce set the timer for nine minutes.

“Could you start unwrapping the kisses?” Bruce asked as he returned the mixing bowl.

“Kisses, hmm?” Clint said in a low tone.

Bruce rolled his eyes, but he felt the betraying smile on his mouth as Clint pressed his lips against his cheek. “Please,” he added to his previous request, and Clint laughed, pressing one last quick kiss against Bruce’s smiling lips to do as he was asked.

They worked together in silence for a few minutes, and Bruce couldn’t help but feel guilty. He should have just answered _Of course I’ll dance with you_ to Clint’s question. 

Bruce could care less about his own lackluster reputation. It hardly mattered what kinds of things he was doing in the laboratory and for Stark Industries, or the progress Hulk had made since becoming an Avenger. In the eyes of the media and general public, the two of them were still time bombs.

Clint, on the other hand, had a fairly decent reputation with the media. Or at least Hawkeye did.

If Clint wanted to risk that to share an evening with him, who was Bruce to say no?

Clint glanced up from unwrapping the Hershey’s kisses when Bruce pressed up against his back, wrapping his arms around the archer and just holding him. Clint leaned back into the embrace and Bruce kissed him lightly against the back of his neck, just below his hairline.

“I’m going to apologize now if I step on your toes tomorrow,” he murmured against the skin his lips were resting against.

He knew Clint’s face had broken out into a radiant smile when he started swaying his hips to the music again, forcing Bruce to as well. “You’ll do great,” Clint replied in a happy voice. “Or, if anything, we’ll step on each other’s toes.”

The timer on the oven went off, and Bruce reluctantly let go of Clint to grab the oven mitts. There was a scent of peanut butter and sugar that filled the air as he pulled the cookie sheets out of the appliance, setting them down on the stove. They both immediately began to press the Hershey’s kisses into the hot rounded cookies.

The cookies were then moved to a wire rack to cool, and once the sheets were filled with more rows of cookie dough, the sheets went back into the oven. The timer was reset to nine minutes.

“What are these called again?” Clint asked as he unwrapped more kisses, hungrily eyeing the cooling cookies.

“Peanut butter blossoms,” Bruce replied, getting back to the task of rolling the dough into little balls. “My mom and I used to make them every Christmas.”

“Yeah?” Clint asked. “What part did you do?”

“Mostly just coating the dough in sugar and putting the kisses on when they were finished baking,” Bruce replied with a fond, nostalgic smile. “Pretty much what you did today, minus the measurements and the shortening.”

He laughed when Clint shuddered at the mention of the shortening.

==

Nearly four hours later, they pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven. They were just plain chocolate chip cookies, but they smelled like heaven.

“And we’re finished,” Bruce said once he had transferred the last cookie over to the wire rack to cool.

“That’s a lot of cookies,” Clint said from his spot against Bruce’s side, looking over the end product of their hard work.

They had made four different types of cookies. There were the peanut butter blossoms and chocolate chip cookies. Bruce had wanted to make a batch of sugar cookies, which were made with cookie cutters of different holiday themes with red and green sprinkles decorating them. Finally, there was the Andes mint cookies Clint had picked for them to bake. They had enough sweets to feed an army—or a team of superheroes.

“It is a lot of cookies,” Bruce agreed. He leaned up and kissed the corner of Clint’s mouth. “Thanks for giving me a hand.”

Clint grinned, but before he could reply, the elevator in the next room arrived with the sound of jingle bells. His grin widened and he held up a finger to keep the physicist quiet.

Not a moment later, they heard someone say “Who’s baking?” and someone else say “Oh man,” both in voices that held a hungry desire.

Sure enough, Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey rounded the corner of the kitchen with a massive amount of take-out bags. A quick glance at the clock on the stove revealed that it was nearly time for the group dinner. Bruce hadn’t realized how late it was.

The three of them looked at the counters, which were practically overflowing with containers and wire racks of cookies. “Oh my god,” Tony said.

“You two have been busy,” Rhodey said. He looked away from the confections and over at Bruce and Clint. “Did you make all of these from scratch?” he asked, sounding impressed.

“Yep,” Clint replied, smiling over at Bruce. “Banner family recipes, except the mint cookies. I found that online.”

“We’ll have them stored and out of the way in a minute,” Bruce promised, breaking away from Clint’s side to start moving the cookies into the awaiting containers.

“Not before I steal one,” Tony said, setting the take-out bags down on the table.

“Just one,” Pepper said as Rhodey and she set their bags down, too. “Don’t spoil your dinner.”

Clint smirked. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, and then immediately held up his hands when she gave him a faux-stern look. Bruce, Rhodey, and Tony all laughed.

They all stole a cookie, and Bruce split a mint one with Clint.

Tony made a noise of pleasure around his bite. “You need to bake more often,” he practically moaned, savoring the still-warm chocolate chip cookie.

“I agree,” Clint said with his mouth full. 

As Pepper, Rhodey, and Tony went back to the table to start plating the obscene amount of food they bought, Clint swallowed his mouthful of cookie and beamed over at Bruce. He cozied up to him and leaned in. “Think I can talk you into baking more often?” he asked in a low voice, just for him to hear.

Bruce could feel the tips of his ears heat just slightly at the suggestive tone. He stole a quick look over at the other three, but they were preoccupied with the dinner plans. When he glanced back, he met Clint’s eyes over the rims of his glasses and smiled coyly. Internally, he beamed when he saw Clint’s Adams apple bob as he swallowed again.

He bit his half of mint cookie before holding the last quarter up to Clint’s mouth. “Maybe,” he replied in a similar tone, low and holding promise. He smiled again when Clint smiled, bright and happy and excited, before eating the cookie from Bruce’s fingers.


	20. Christmas Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

The night of the Stark Industries Christmas Gala and Charity Fundraiser had finally arrived. 

After an early dinner, Pepper took Natasha and Jane off to go have their hair done, informing the rest of the group that they would meet them at the party, which was being held in the grand lobby of the building. The event was due to begin at eight o’clock with no end time listed. 

Not only were there going to be a majority of Stark Industries employees attending, but a great many city officials would be there as well. And like any event with so many highly-ranking attendees, certain members of the press would be there.

Not to mention a team of superheroes would be in attendance, too.

Bruce finished shaving and tried to tame his messy curls. The end result wasn’t what a stylist could have done with it, but for someone who hardly paid attention to his hair on the best of days, it was reasonably presentable.

Once he had finished up in the bathroom, Bruce wandered out into his room toward the walk-in closet each suite had built in. His tux was hanging up, the same tux he had worn to some kind of fundraiser with Tony and Pepper several months ago that they had gotten for him, custom fitted and everything. 

He carefully got dressed, taking the time to make sure everything went on correctly and fit properly. The bowtie was handled with elegance and ease—a skill that Bruce had always strangely had that he had no idea who he learned from. The suit jacket went on after that, and once the buttons were done, he finally risked a glance in the full-length mirror at the end of the closet.

Self-consciously, he tugged lightly at the collar of his shirt and straightened the lapels of the jacket before he made his hands drop to his sides. He tried to remember what Pepper had done before the three of them had stepped out of the car and into the fundraiser, but he had been so full of nerves at the time that he had just been focused on not being sick. 

His nervousness wasn’t nearly as bad this time as it had been then, but the unsettling feeling in his stomach was a sure sign of his anxiety. 

It was just a Christmas party. Underneath all of the glitz and glamor, the professional photographers and the high-end champagne, it was just a Christmas party with coworkers and colleagues. 

Bruce met his eyes in the mirror and swallowed.

Slipping a watch onto his wrist and his glasses into the jacket pocket, Bruce left the sanctity of his suite and rode the elevator up to the communal floor, where the men of the group had all agreed to meet.

The elevator arrived with the sound of jingle bells, and Bruce stepped off of the elevator and onto the communal floor. He followed the sound of voices and found Steve, Sam, and Thor standing in the living room. Thor was standing in the center of the room with Steve, holding still for the super soldier to fix his tie. Sam was sitting casually in the armchair, watching the pair with a tiny smile on his lips.

Thor noticed Bruce before either Steve or Sam, and a bright grin spread across his face. “Doctor!” he greeted the newcomer jovially. 

Sam and Steve both turned to glance over at him, and Bruce unconsciously slipped his hands into his pockets under the weight of their stares. The three of them looked exquisite in their tuxedos, each of them perfect specimens of the human species. 

“Damn, doc,” Sam said, drawing Bruce out of his insecure thoughts, “you clean up.” Bruce felt his face heat as Sam’s eyes did a quick once-over. “I’ve only ever seen you in your frumpy professor clothes. Clint’s going to have trouble keeping his hands off of you tonight.”

“Uh…” Bruce began eloquently as the elevator sounded behind him, followed by footsteps. “Thanks?” He cleared his throat. “You all look great.”

He noticed a knowing smile form on all three of their faces, and it was only then that he noticed that the footsteps had stopped. He glanced over his shoulder.

Clint looked absolutely _stunning._ The lines of the suit clung to his form, leaving very little to the imagination of the kind of body that was hidden beneath the fabric. He had shaved, and his hair was perfectly coiffed into a messy style that was so completely _Clint._ Like the others, he had a black tie, which was sitting just a little crooked against his shirt and tucked into the opening of his jacket.

Unlike the others, however, was the hungry desire on his face. His eyes were practically devouring Bruce where he stood, and Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he had ever been stared at like that.

Clint’s eyes met his. “Turn back around,” he said. “I wasn’t done looking.”

Bruce felt his face flush as Steve released a playful and mildly scandalized “Clint!” and Sam and Thor both laughed uproariously. Bruce himself huffed a laugh and obligingly spun in a slow circle for Clint to look at him before he approached the archer.

With his back turned to the other three men in the room, Bruce allowed himself to freely look over Clint. “You look…amazing,” he said, trying and failing to think of some other descriptor that would accurately reflect the sheer splendor Clint made. 

More attractive than his body was the warm smile that spread across Clint’s face, lighting a small fire in Bruce’s belly that spread through his limbs until he felt the affection everywhere throughout his body. 

“Thank you,” Clint replied softly as Bruce came to a stop in front of him. The archer’s hands rested on his upper arms, the warmth of his touch reaching down through the layers of fabric to sink into Bruce’s skin. “You look fantastic,” he murmured just for his boyfriend to hear, the words loving and genuine. “And I love the bowtie,” he added with a grin.

“Speaking of ties,” Bruce said, “yours is a little crooked.” He reached out and carefully rearranged the strip of fabric.

The elevator sounded again, and as the doors opened, they all heard Tony’s voice. “Uh huh,” he was saying as he and Rhodey stepped onto the floor, both dressed impeccably. Tony was on his phone, but he smirked at the sight of Bruce fixing Clint’s tie. “Yeah,” he said into the phone. “I’m getting everyone now. We’ll be down in a sec.”

He hung up. “That was Pepper,” he told the room, looking around at everyone. “She, Jane, and Natasha are downstairs waiting for us.” He grinned brightly and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “You guys ready?”

All seven of them packed into the elevator and rode down to the lobby. The doors opened and they stepped out. This area of the lobby had been cordoned off, so the guests wouldn’t have access to the elevators.

Before they reached the party, they found Pepper, Natasha, and Jane. Bruce smiled to himself when he heard Thor say something low and wondrous in a foreign tongue at the sight of Jane, who flushed happily when she spotted Thor staring. She was in a red gown, her gorgeously styled brunette hair cascading down her back like a curled waterfall. 

Pepper and Natasha both smiled as Jane offered the Asgardian a nervous little wave, and she looked just as self-conscious as Bruce had felt earlier.

Thor stepped straight up to her, still beaming brilliantly. “You look wonderful,” he said. “Were I a bard, I could find the words and phrases to accurately describe your radiant beauty.” He lifted one of her hands and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. 

“Oh,” Jane replied, blushing and letting her eyes rove over Thor. “Thanks. Uh, so do you. Look wonderful, I mean.”

When she cringed minutely at her own words, Thor smiled brightly again and offered her his arm, which she happily took.

“Pepper, darling,” Tony said, leaving Rhodey’s side to approach her. “Stunning, as always.” 

She was dressed in a gorgeous backless sapphire dress that complimented her hair perfectly. Her locks were done in waves, giving the coif body and volume that she normally didn’t bother with.

When he leaned in for a kiss, Pepper let one of her perfectly manicured fingers rest against his lips. “You may kiss me on the cheek,” she said with a smile. “I don’t want you ruining my lipstick yet.”

Tony grinned against her finger. _“Yet,”_ he repeated, low and seductive.

Pepper rolled her eyes, but welcomed his kiss against her cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress,” Sam said to Natasha.

The spy was wearing black, which came as little surprise to Bruce, but she was dazzling. The color of the dress made her hair seem even brighter and vibrant. She probably had at least four different weapons hidden expertly on her person

Natasha quirked an eyebrow and looked Sam over. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit,” she replied smoothly, to which Sam grinned. Her lips ticked upward and she stepped toward him and Steve, offering them each an arm. They both obligingly let her wrap an arm around one of theirs.

With that, the ten of them moved off toward the sound of voices and instrumental holiday music, Tony and Pepper leading the way. 

Bruce tried to keep from fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt as they neared the party. He managed to stop when he felt a warm hand against the small of his back.

When he glanced over, his heart nearly melted at the warm smile on Clint’s face. He felt some of his nerves settle.

He gave Clint a thankful smile, and Clint lightly patted his back before he looked ahead again. “Psst, Rhodey!” he stage whispered with a smirk on his face.

Rhodey, who was walking just behind Tony and Pepper, glanced back past the five people between them. He raised an eyebrow in question.

Clint grinned and waved his free hand. “I have another arm, if you’re feeling lonely,” he said.

Bruce bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Tony twisted around and gave Clint a faux-harsh look. “Hands off, Bird Feathers,” he warned, easily linking arms with the colonel. 

Clint smirked to himself, but they all laughed when Rhodey released a put-upon sigh that was loud enough to carry.

They passed by security and the instrumental music immediately faded away. Tony bought the group to a stop as someone went through a short spiel about welcoming the hosts of the night’s party. 

Tony turned back around and gave them all a grin as the announcer continued. “I hope you all have fun tonight,” he said to them. “I’m sure we’ll all be rounded up for a group photo a bit later, so until then, enjoy yourselves.”

He turned back around just as the announcer said “Ms. Pepper Potts and Mr. Tony Stark.” Applause erupted from the lobby, and Tony led them out into the party at last. 

The portion of the lobby holding the party was gorgeously decorated. There were elegant Christmas trees dotted around the walls of the room in a perfectly symmetrical pattern. Between the trees were either wreaths or poinsettias. On two separate tables were Menorahs with five candles lit, excluding the main center candle. There were a few speakers around the room as well as a small station for a DJ. 

And all throughout the room were people. There was the flashing of lights as the photographers captured the moment of their group’s arrival to the gala, but thankfully, there were no reporters badgering them with questions. Instead, the people around them were still clapping. 

Tony released his arm from Rhodey’s and raised a hand to bring the noise level back down. He was given a microphone from someone. “Thank you all for coming to the Stark Industries Christmas Gala and Charity Fundraiser,” he greeted the crowd, which received another round of applause. “I’m glad to see so many of you could make it out tonight. I’d like you all to enjoy yourselves this evening, and please consider donating. You’ll see stations dotted around the room—and most importantly, at the bar—” He paused to let the soft laughter from the crowd die down. “—so please, consider making a donation. Proceeds will go to the Maria Stark Foundation, which will in turn make donations to various charities around the city and country.”

He paused again, giving the room a dazzling smile. “Alright, let’s get this party started! Thanks for coming, everybody, and happy holidays!”

There was more applause as Tony handed the microphone back to someone. He twisted and grinned at the group. “Alright, kids, have fun,” he said before he and Pepper wandered off to go talk with the guests. 

The group split up then, moving around the room to chat with anyone who approached them. Bruce was thankful that Clint stayed with him as they talked with one of the curators of a city museum. 

The music turned back on at some point, and there were people out on the dance floor. When Bruce glanced over, he smiled when he saw Thor and Jane already out dancing, the Asgardian towering over most of the surrounding people. 

He felt a hand gently fall upon his shoulder, and when he glanced over at Clint, he saw that the archer was smiling at him. There was a hopeful look in his eyes. “Care to dance?” he asked, offering his other hand.

Bruce glanced back at the dance floor, smiled, and then took Clint’s hand. When he looked back at Clint’s face, he saw that the smile had overtaken the archer’s face. His laugh lines were crinkled and he looked so unspeakably happy that Bruce felt his breath catch in his throat. 

He let himself be led out onto the dance floor amongst the sea of people in flashy suits and gorgeous gowns. He was sure that people were staring, but as Clint put one hand on his hip and held the other aloft, Bruce couldn’t help but focus entire on the man swaying with him.

The song was a slower one, something in which they could just move gently in time with the beat and focus on each other. He thought he saw some cameras flash, but he was lost in the feeling of Clint’s hand against his hip, of the feel of Clint’s shoulder under his own hand, of the way their bodies moved in unison to the music.

They chatted softly as they danced to a number of songs. They spotted Coulson, who was currently chatting with Sam, Natasha, and Steve off toward one of the Christmas trees. 

The song changed over into something more upbeat, forcing them to pick up the pace a little. 

Either they had migrated closer to Thor and Jane, or they had migrated closer to them. Clint suddenly grinned. “Thor, my man!” he called.

Thor glanced away from Jane and smiled brightly when he saw it was Clint who called him. “My archer,” he replied jovially.

It happened so fast. Clint was dancing with Bruce, and then suddenly he and Thor were together on the dance floor, and suddenly Bruce had Jane in his grasp. Jane looked almost just as stunned as he felt, but they both broke out into grins. 

Thor and Clint danced away, both of them grinning like loons and with Thor’s booming laughter trailing behind them.

Jane laughed. “Clint, don’t steal my boyfriend!” she called.

“You neither, Thor,” Bruce added, albeit just a little softer. 

Still, Clint gave him a beautiful smile and blew a kiss his way before they disappeared in the mass of other dancers.

Bruce smiled and focused on Jane. “Shall we?” he asked, offering his hand.

Jane looked away from where Clint and Thor had disappeared, finding his proffered hand before she smiled radiantly. “Let’s,” she replied.

They danced to the tune with easy movements, since neither of them was very good at dancing. They chatted about the results of yesterday’s tests from the lab and how Jane had geeked out in the fitting room she and Thor had been at when the results had arrived on her phone.

“You picked out a charming dress,” Bruce said as they wrapped up their science talk. “Did Darcy help pick it?”

Jane blushed just slightly. “Thor did, actually,” she answered. “He said red was the color of passion, and then he became pretty poetic about…” she flushed again, and Bruce smiled. “I figured since red was a Christmas color, I could get away with it.”

“You look lovely,” Bruce reassured her. When Jane ducked her head a little, he gently shifted them until they were still holding hands, but their bodies were no longer close. As he was drawing her back in, he gently spun her, giving him a chance to get a quick look at her.

When she was against him again, he gave her another smile. “Lovely,” he said again.

Jane stared at him for a moment before she smiled and blushed in unison. “You’re smooth, Dr. Banner,” she said with a laugh. “If I didn’t know about you and Clint, I’d be worried that you were trying to put the moves on me.”

“I am doing no such thing, Dr. Foster,” Bruce reassured her with an amused grin. “As lovely as you are, my sights are elsewhere.”

Just then, Thor and Clint reappeared, each of them carrying two glasses of wine. 

Bruce and Jane smiled again and broke apart, accepting a glass from their significant other before they parted ways.

“Those were some smooth moves,” Clint said with a grin as they walked off the dance floor to enjoy their drinks. 

Bruce turned a look toward him. “You were watching?” he asked.

Clint took a sip of his wine, still looking at him. Once he swallowed, he gave him a smile that held a great deal of promise. “I was watching you move around in this suit,” he said, reaching out to fiddle with one of the lapels of Bruce’s suit jacket. He leaned in close. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t done looking earlier,” he whispered in Bruce’s ear.

Bruce shivered when he remembered the heavy desire that had been on Clint’s face. Paired with the whispered comment, he felt the beginnings of heat start to pool in his stomach. 

Following the archer’s example, he leaned in and whispered back. “Well, I never got a chance to really appreciate the view,” he said, letting his free hand gently slide down Clint’s arm, slowly, seductively.

When their eyes met, Clint’s eyes were dark and hungry. Bruce couldn’t deny his own desire, but he laughed and took a step away when Clint leaned in again, since it was obvious that he was about to use his mouth for something other than talking. 

Clint gave him an exaggerated pout. “Tony said to have fun,” he pointed out.

“I doubt that is the kind of fun Tony had in mind,” Bruce replied, grinning when Clint huffed a laugh. “We can’t leave too early.”

Clint glanced at one of the clocks on the wall, and Bruce followed his gaze to see that it was already getting close to ten. The archer looked back at him. “Another hour?” he said hopefully.

“At least,” Bruce agreed.

Clint grinned again. “Then come dance with me some more,” he said, and Bruce could hardly refuse.

==

Two hours and two glasses of wine later, Bruce was dancing with Tony. The engineer had whined and complained when Clint had danced off with Pepper, but her ringing laughter of amusement had calmed Tony down enough.

Over the course of the party, Clint and Bruce had danced with just about everyone in their group. Bruce had laughed when Clint and Sam had jammed to some song Bruce hadn’t recognized, but the pair of them had gotten a round of applause at the end of it. 

After they watched Pepper and Clint dance away, Tony turned a suspicious look toward Bruce. “He better not be stealing her,” he accused.

“You and I will both be upset if he is,” Bruce replied, and Tony smirked before offering him a hand.

The two of them danced around, Bruce letting Tony lead. 

“I’m surprised you two are still here, actually,” Tony said as they danced. “I figured you two would have left before Thor and Jane.”

The demigod and astrophysicist had bid them a good night about an hour ago. Both of them had been flushed and happy.

“We’ll probably be heading upstairs here pretty soon,” Bruce replied.

Sure enough, about a minute later, Bruce felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw Pepper smiling at him with light in her eyes. “Mind if I cut in?” she asked.

Bruce returned the smile and happily let her and Tony rejoin. “Sure.”

Pepper pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. “Clint is over with Phil,” she said to him before she was whisked away by Tony to the next song.

Dodging around dancers, Bruce made his way toward where he had last seen Coulson. Sure enough, he was in the same spot with Natasha and Clint. 

Clint beamed when Bruce approached their group. “Hey babe,” he said before he pressed a quick peck of a kiss against Bruce’s lips. 

“Hey,” Bruce replied, wrapping an arm around Clint’s waist. He looked over at Natasha and Coulson, who were both watching them with fond little smiles on their faces. He smiled. “I think we’re going to head out,” he said.

Natasha’s smile turned into a knowing smirk, but she kept quiet. 

Clint shot her a smirk of his own before he focused on Coulson. “We’ll see you at the Secret Santa thing, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” Coulson replied. “I believe Ms. Potts is aiming to have it on Christmas Eve.” His eyes danced between the two of them for a moment before he gave them a real smile, one that was so unspeakably warm. “You two have a nice night,” he said before he offered Natasha a hand.

While Natasha and Coulson moved out onto the dance floor, Bruce gave Clint’s body a light squeeze. “Ready to go?” he asked softly.

Clint turned and pressed a kiss against his mouth. “ _So_ ready,” he replied in a heated tone.

The two of them left the Christmas party and walked at a comfortable speed back to the elevators, keeping their pace casual and keeping their hands to themselves.

As soon as the elevator doors were shut, however, they lunged at each other. Bruce pinned Clint against the wall, and Clint groaned at the contact, their lips locked together in a desperate kiss they had been denied for hours. Their hands scrambled over each other, like they didn’t know where to touch first.

“That _suit,”_ Clint groaned when they broke apart for air. “I’ve been wanting to peel it off your body since I walked out onto the communal floor.” He pulled Bruce in for another deep kiss, twisting them around until it was Bruce against the wall.

The elevator stopped, and they broke the kiss long enough to see which floor they had landed on. Bruce felt his stomach lurch with excitement when he saw they were on his floor. They hadn’t slept on his floor since before Sam and Rhodey had arrived earlier in the week, and now that they were here, Bruce couldn’t help but feel like this was new again.

He pulled Clint out of the elevator by his tie, and Clint’s eyes darkened with hunger at the action. Once they were behind the suite doors, Bruce pressed another hot kiss against Clint’s mouth, and he started leading them toward his room.

They broke apart again once they were behind the closed door of his bedroom. Both were panting, and their previously stylized hair was messy. Their lips were red and wet, and Bruce had never seen Clint look so gorgeous. 

When Clint took a step forward, Bruce took a step back. He smiled when Clint gave him a questioning look. “You know,” Bruce began, still slightly breathless, “I never _did_ get a chance to really appreciate the view of you in your suit.”

Clint’s eyes darkened and a slow, seductive smirk crossed his face. “Yeah?” he said. He started toying with his tie. “Why don’t you sit down so you can _really_ appreciate the view?”

Below them, the Stark Industries Christmas Gala and Charity Fundraiser continued long into the night. 

It was, indeed, a good night.


	21. Snowballs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

_“Pardon the interruption,”_ JARVIS said, cutting into the group’s conversation, _“but there has been a call to assemble.”_

They had just finished up a late morning brunch (no one had gotten up before ten that morning) and were getting ready to enjoy one last day together as a full group. Jane flew back out to New Mexico tomorrow morning, and Sam and Rhodey flew out tomorrow afternoon. 

They had been laughing, but JARVIS’s announcement put the team immediately in battle mode. 

Tony looked over at Rhodey. “Want to test the modifications to the suit?” he asked.

“You bet,” the colonel replied, already getting to his feet with everyone else. 

“You brought your wings?” Steve asked Sam.

Sam gave him a look that seemed to say _duh._

As the eight of them rushed off, Pepper waved after them. “Go get ‘em,” she called.

“Be careful,” Jane added.

==

“What the hell kind of villain attacks this close to Christmas?” Tony asked as they reached the hostile zone. 

“You’re more concerned about when they’re attacking instead of _what_ is attacking?” Steve returned, unable to take his eyes away from the window of the jet.

Outside the jet, in the snowy hills of northern New York, was a swarm of… _something._ They were like a cross between a cicada, a spider, and a wasp, only they were the size of cows. Apparently, someone had gotten bored and decided to splice the different insects and arachnids together, and then, apparently, made a nest and create a swarm. There were hundreds of the nasty monsters, both flying and skittering around on the ground, making their way down toward the city at the bottom of the hills. 

Coulson’s voice came to them over the communication links they were all wearing. “We don’t know what kind of spider was used in the splicing, so these things might be venomous. We can’t get their creator to talk yet, but we’re working on it. Be careful of their bite. As for their stingers—”

“Hope no one’s allergic to bee stings,” Tony grumbled.

Sam shot him a look. “That thing isn’t part bee. That’s part _wasp,”_ he said with a shudder. He turned toward Steve. “Is this what being an Avenger is like?”

“We play exterminator on occasion,” Steve answered. “Please go on, sir,” he said to Coulson.

“As for their stingers,” Coulson continued in their head sets, “they’re the kind that can sting multiple times, so watch out for that. Good luck.”

Once Coulson signed off for the moment, Bruce let out a sigh. “This is going to be one of those really disgusting fights,” he said, defeat in his voice.

Thor patted his arm in solidarity. The two of them were the most invulnerable members of the team, which meant they got their hands _really_ dirty on missions like these.

“Alright,” Steve said, taking command. “Barton and Romanoff, you’ll be our eyes. Stay on the jet and call out patterns you may see. Take out whichever ones you can, and try to keep them away from the jet. Rhodes and Stark, create a perimeter around the hill; keep these things close. Wilson, you’re with Rhodes and Stark, but keep your distance. Thor, you and me are on the ground for now. And Banner,” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” Bruce replied with another sigh.

Steve gave a nod and looked around the seven of them. “Call out weaknesses you see, and be careful.”

With that, the back of the jet opened. Tony and Rhodey let their faceplates fall with a metallic clink. “Alright, sugar bear,” Tony said as he led the way to the ramp. “Let’s make some magic.”

“Please don’t call me that on the intercom,” Rhodey said with just a hint of pleading in his voice.

The two iron clad men fired their thrusters and flew out of the back of the jet and into the swarm. Almost immediately, they had a tail of the monstrosities following after them. 

The last thing Bruce heard before he took out his earpiece was Tony saying “These things are gross and _angry.”_ He watched Steve clasp one of Thor’s hands while the other swung his hammer, and then they, too, took off into the madness.

Bruce pulled off his glasses and sweater, already beginning to shiver slightly. It thankfully wasn’t snowing hard at the moment, with only small flurries coming down from the clouds above, but it was _freezing._

He looked over at Sam to keep himself from looking at Clint. “Can you give me a lift?” he asked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Sam fixed his goggles down over his eyes and held out his hand. “I’m sure you weigh less than Cap,” he said. “No problem.”

Bruce snorted a laugh and grasped Sam’s hand. He turned and looked at Clint and Natasha. “Give ‘em hell,” he said.

With that, Sam’s wings expanded and they shot out of the jet. Their grip remained firm even as Bruce felt his stomach lurch. Sam found an opening in the swarm and flew straight there, keeping them away from the monsters. 

“Where do you want me to drop you?” Sam shouted over the sound of wind.

Bruce forced his eyes open and squinted against the wind, peeking down at the battle below them. They were flying well over the fight, and Bruce could make out maybe a dozen of the hybrid monsters between them and the ground. 

“Here’s good,” Bruce replied, and he let go of Sam’s hand. 

Over the rush of wind in his ears, Bruce thought he heard Sam shout something in surprise after him. He twisted his body and reached for the pool of anger simmering inside. 

Green filled his vision, and he gave in.

==

As Clint was drawing another arrow from his quiver, he kept his eyes locked on the falling figure of Bruce. He watched the Hulk explode from his body with a massive roar as he plummeted toward the ground, huge fists outstretched to take out as many of the monsters as he could reach on his way down.

Clint returned his focus to the fight once Hulk had jumped out of the crater he created upon his crash landing. “It looks like these things have pretty thick exoskeletons,” he informed the rest of the group. He aimed an arrow at a small juncture between the plating of the beast’s outer shell. It managed to pierce through and land. The monster screeched before it started falling from the sky.

“Aim between the plates,” Clint said over the communication link before he glanced over at Natasha. “Having fun yet?” he asked as he pulled another arrow from his quiver.

Natasha fired a bullet from her handgun. As she was reloading, her eyes were locked on something. Clint followed her line of sight until he saw what looked like a small entrance to a cave. 

“You think their nest is in there?” Clint asked as he fired another arrow into the base of the wing on a passing monster. The wing was made inert and it spiraled down to the snowy ground. 

There was a roar, and Clint glanced toward Hulk. He grimaced when he saw some kind of purple fluid coloring Hulk’s green skin. It must have been the insect juice. 

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Natasha replied as shot more bullets into passing monsters. “It would make sense why they’re swarming here.”

“It would,” Clint replied, returning his focus to the battle. He paused. “Ew, do you think there’s a queen hybrid beast in there?” he asked.

Before Natasha could answer, there was a sound of frantic beeping from the cockpit of the jet. They both glanced over their shoulders at the pilot, who uttered a curse. “Hang—” 

The pilot’s warning was lost to the sound of a crash, and the entire jet shook. Clint tried to catch his balance, but one misstep left his foot in midair and he toppled over.

A hand suddenly grabbed his free one, and his freefall jerked to a stop, leaving him dangling in midair. He heard Steve’s voice calling commands in his ear to the rest of the team, but Clint focused on keeping his grip. 

When he looked up, he saw Natasha keeping him aloft with one hand. Her other was clutched to part of the jet, which was keeping her from being dragged off of the jet with Clint. Her face was a picture of determination and strain.

“I don’t think I can pull you up,” Natasha said through grit teeth. “Not without letting go of the jet.”

“No, hey, it’s cool,” Clint replied. 

He realized it wasn’t so cool when Natasha’s eyes left his and widened. He risked looking away and saw one of the monsters was flying toward them. “Oh shit,” Clint murmured. Neither of them could attack it.

Before the thing got too close, Clint’s hearing aids picked up a grunt of a roar. There was a whistling sound, but before he could discern what was making the noise, something hit the monster flying at them. The beast was torn in two and fell silently toward the ground.

Clint and Natasha stared after the thing for a long moment until they became aware that another was attacking. Another grunt sounded, and Clint looked down toward Hulk just in time to see a densely packed snowball being flung from his hand. The snowball whistled through the air at break-neck speeds until it hit another flying insect hybrid, easily breaking through its exoskeleton and ripping it in half.

 _“Святое дерьмо,”_ Natasha breathed quietly in both horror and wonder as the dead thing fell harmlessly to the ground below. 

A breathless laugh escaped from Clint. “Do it again, Hulk!” he called down.

He saw Hulk look up at him as he was packing another terrifyingly dense snowball in his meaty hands. The look on his face was stern and angry. “Starman say to stay on jet!” he roared back as he let the snowball whizz from his hand and through another insect monstrosity that had been closing in on them.

Clint would have given his boyfriend’s alter ego a helpless shrug, but he didn’t want to risk his hold on Natasha’s hand. 

The sound of thrusters suddenly became audible as Rhodey came flying up. He carefully grabbed Clint and set him down on the ramp of the jet. “You’re nuts,” he said once Clint found his footing, letting his faceplate flip back. “You taught him how to make a snowball?” 

The archer grinned widely and pulled Natasha to her feet. “Good thing I did,” he replied.

They were cut off by the approach of an incoming insect. Rhodey lifted his armored hands to shoot a beam at it, but the thing was destroyed by another snowball. 

“Jesus,” Rhodey mumbled as the three of them watched the two halves of the beast fall from the air like a rock. "Okay, then." He glanced back over at Clint, who was still grinning, before he shook his head and made his faceplate lower again. “Be careful,” he said before he rocketed off.

Clint watched him disappear back into the fray before he glanced over at Natasha, who was collecting her handguns from where she had tossed them in her rush to save Clint. “Thanks for the catch,” he said as he pulled an arrow from his quiver to continue fighting.

“Thanks for teaching him how to weaponize snow,” Natasha returned, though there was a small uptick of a smile on her lips.

Clint beamed again, and they returned to the opening of the jet, this time making sure their footing was secure. They shot down the monsters that were swarming around the jet before Clint stole a quick peek down at Hulk. 

The green behemoth was being swarmed, but he was easily destroying them with powerful punches and backhands, looking like he was rather enjoying himself. 

He didn’t seem like he was in any danger, but Clint let one of his arrows loose on one of the lasts of the swarm. Hulk glanced up when his target suddenly sprouted an arrow from its back, and Clint gave a broad wave.

With the distance between them, Clint couldn’t hear the snort the Hulk released, but he saw the puff of white air escape from his nose. “Cupid stay on jet!” he roared before he leapt off to go help Steve out.

“You heard him,” Natasha said teasingly as she unloaded her clip into several passing hybrids. 

Clint rolled his eyes and fired another arrow into one of the beasts that was getting too close to Sam. “Like I meant to fall out of the jet,” he grumbled.

==

Hours later, they finally had the entire swarm defeated. Thor had gone into the cavern to investigate whether or not it was the nest, which turned out to be true. He had shouted his victory over the communication link once he had destroyed the nesting ground for the hybrid monstrosities. 

The pilot finally landed the jet, and the eight of them began to reconvene. 

When Tony touched down, his faceplate lifted to reveal a grin. “Wilson, those wings work like a dream,” he said, gently clapping his armored hand on Sam’s unarmored shoulder. “Just think of how much better they’d be if you let me tune them up.”

“You offering?” Sam asked as a brilliant smile crossed his face. 

Tony grinned again before he twisted to look at Rhodey. “How’d the new modifications do?” he asked.

As the two of them went off on a technical conversation, the last three members of their eight person group arrived. Thor, Steve, and Hulk were all covered in the purple gunk that had been inside the nasty insect hybrids. They weren’t bleeding and there didn’t appear to be any puncture wounds anywhere to suggest they had been stung, so they seemed to be alright.

“Good work, everyone,” Steve said once they had reached the group. He glanced in the direction of the jet. “I’m going to go talk to the pilot really quick and see if the jet is capable of getting us back home. Hang tight a minute.”

As the captain wandered off, Tony turned and grinned up at Hulk. “That was some nice aim out there, Mean Green,” he said. “I never knew snowballs could be so fatal.”

Hulk grinned savagely at that. “Snow smash,” he replied, triumphant and proud.

“Snow smash, indeed,” Natasha repeated.

“The snow smash was much appreciated,” Clint said, drawing the behemoth’s green eyes to him. He smiled brightly and approached. “Thanks for looking out for us.”

Hulk snorted again and knelt down to properly look at Clint. His bright green eyes did a quick sweep of the archer’s body. “Cupid okay?” he asked in a softer, rumbling tone.

“I’m fine,” Clint replied with a warm smile. “How about you?” He tried to find any kind of bruise or abrasion, but what green skin that was left unmarred by the purple bug guts was completely okay.

“Hulk messy,” the goliath answered, holding up his purpled hands. He paused before he added “And cold.”

“Starman is working on getting our ride back home set up,” Clint said. He glanced over toward the jet, where he could see the team captain speaking with the pilot. “It might be a few minutes.”

He turned back around and smiled up at Hulk. “How about we make snow angels?” he suggested. “I bet the rest of the group would like to see that.”

“No more snow smash?” Hulk questioned.

Clint grinned again. “I think everyone saw your snowball skills,” he reassured him. He turned to the group. “Right?”

“Most certainly,” Thor proclaimed with a bright grin. “You used your environment to your advantage.” He clapped his hand against one of Hulk’s massive shoulders, right on a spot that was covered in bug gore, but since the Asgardian’s hands were covered in it, too, it hardly made a difference. “Well played, friend. Your ingenuity is to be admired.”

Steve came trotting back up to the group. “Alright, we’re good to go,” he said. He looked at Thor and Hulk. “The pilot says there are towels on board so we can wash off a little.”

The eight of them began to trudge toward the jet, Hulk and Clint bringing up the rear. 

Hulk glanced over at him when Clint lightly poked him with the tip of his bow. “Thanks again, man,” the archer said. “Tasha and I were in some real trouble. Thanks for looking out for us.”

The green giant gave him a smile that seemed vicious, but Clint could see the relieved happiness in the expression. “Cupid safe,” Hulk replied, and then he began to shrink down. 

==

The feeling of a damp cloth moving over his hands roused Bruce. His body ached and there was a chill settled deep within him. There was a blanket draped over his shoulders, and he was leaning against a warm body.

Bruce forced his eyes open and he looked blearily around, not bothering to lift his head from the shoulder it was resting on. He felt the cloth on his knuckles pause.

“Hey Bruce,” Clint’s soft voice reached his ears.

Bruce sunk into the words and leaned more into Clint’s body. “Hey,” he replied, though the word came out crackled and hoarse. 

“We won,” Clint said. “Everyone’s fine. We’re on the jet now, and we’re getting ready to leave. You’ve only been out for like five minutes.”

“Mmm,” Bruce replied wordlessly, letting his eyes slip shut again so he could focus better on the feeling of Clint’s warmth. 

“You remember anything?” Clint asked as he began to use the damp cloth on his hands again, wiping away something that was sticking to his skin.

Despite the exhaustion that made Bruce want nothing more than to sleep for about a week, Bruce forced himself to think. An image came to his mind’s eye, surprisingly, though he wasn’t sure if it was connected to his time as the Hulk during today’s battle.

Bruce felt his brow furrow slightly in confusion before he finally answered. “…something about snowballs?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Святое дерьмо_ translates roughly to "holy shit" (according to Google Translate, at least).


	22. Gingerbread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

There was a big, early breakfast on their final morning together. Jane was due to fly out right around eleven that morning, so the breakfast was early enough to allow her and Thor to eat comfortably before they had to leave.

It was also early enough to cut into the time it took for Bruce to recuperate from a transformation, but despite feeling exhausted, he forced himself to get up to see her off. His body still ached and his hands were shaky, but he was determined to give her a hug and wish her well before she and Thor left for the airport.

“I didn’t mean for you to get up,” Jane said apologetically as she hugged him back, giving him a light squeeze. “I know the transformation takes it out of you.”

“It’s fine,” Bruce replied, giving her a light squeeze in return. “I’m glad I got to see you before you left.” They broke apart, and he offered her a smile. “I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. Fly safe.”

Jane smiled brightly at him. “You too,” she said. “Go get some rest, and thank you for the peppermint bark in my stocking! I’ll have to keep that away from Darcy.”

Once Thor and Jane left, Clint dragged Bruce back to the physicist’s floor. “Go back to sleep,” the archer ordered, guiding Bruce back toward his bed. The covers were still pushed back.

“Okay,” Bruce replied, going willingly. He turned and looked at Clint before they reached the bed. “Will you wake me up before Rhodey and Sam leave?”

Clint smiled and pressed a kiss against Bruce’s lips. “I’ll wake you up,” he promised. He then nudged Bruce toward the bed again. “Now go to sleep.”

Bruce did as he was told.

==

Clint did wake him up just after noon to see Sam and Rhodey off. When they got to the communal floor, Sam was talking to Steve and Natasha.

“I’d be more than happy to host you guys again,” Sam was saying with a sincere smile. “If you don’t have any other plans, you’re more than welcome to come.”

Steve smiled. “Thanks, Sam,” he replied. “We’ll let you know soon, regardless of our answer.”

“That’s all I ask,” Sam said with a grin. He then began to make the rounds around the room, wishing everyone a merry Christmas and a happy New Year just in case he didn’t see them again before then.

Rhodey did the same thing. “It’s been a blast,” he said as he rounded the room. “Thanks for having me.”

Tony gave him a bear hug, clapping him soundly on the back. “You need to come by more often,” he said. “Can I fly you as far as the city limits?” he asked with mock cordiality. 

A scoff of a laugh escaped from the colonel. “Why not?” he replied, and with one last wave and wish for happy holidays, he and Tony went off to go suit up.

Once they were flying off and Steve and Nat were walking with Sam to the car, Clint slung an arm around Bruce’s tense body. Bruce did feel a bit better from that morning, but he was still nowhere near one hundred percent. It would likely be either tonight or tomorrow that he felt like himself again.

Bruce let Clint lead him to the elevator, and this time, they went to Clint’s floor. “Are you putting me back to bed?” Bruce asked with a fond smile as they walked into the suite.

“Are you still tired?” Clint inquired. “Cause if you are, you can totally go back to sleep.”

“I think I’m okay for the moment,” Bruce answered. He did feel more awake than he did when they saw Jane off earlier that morning. 

“Okay, cool,” Clint said with a grin.

They settled on the couch, and Bruce happily let himself be drawn into Clint’s arms. They sat cuddled together peacefully. There was no television or teammates to distract them from the feeling of just being together for the moment. 

It was another few minutes before Clint spoke.

“So,” he began, “after you went back to sleep, Steve took Sam out into the city, and Tasha and I tagged along. Sam had something he needed to buy for someone in his family. Anyway, while we were in the store, I found this thing.”

“Mm hmm,” Bruce hummed, prompting Clint to go on.

“Have you ever built a gingerbread house?” the archer asked.

“I can’t say that I have,” Bruce answered after a moment. He reluctantly lifted his head to look at Clint. “You bought a kit?”

“I did,” Clint confirmed with a grin.

They went to Clint’s kitchen, where the kit was sitting on his table. Clint moved by the table to turn on the coffee maker, and Bruce kissed him in gratitude.

Both of them sat down with their cups of coffee to look at the kit. It said that the gingerbread was pre-baked, so at least they wouldn’t have to make it from scratch. The box provided a base, instructions, and a plethora of different candies and frostings to use to create the house.

“Have you ever made a gingerbread house before?” Bruce asked as Clint opened the kit and began to unpack it.

“No,” Clint answered. He dumped the contents out onto the table and flipped the box around to look at the back. He smiled and lightly bumped shoulders with Bruce. “But it looks like fun.”

Bruce slipped his glasses onto his nose to look more closely at the box. “Well, it says ages eight and up, so we should manage just fine.”

Clint grinned. “Maybe.”

Together, they got everything organized and got the pieces of the pre-baked gingerbread unwrapped and laid out.

Clint held up one of the pieces and frowned at it. “This doesn’t look like gingerbread,” he said. He looked over at Bruce. “Isn’t it supposed to be lighter?” 

“I think it depends on how it’s made,” Bruce replied, eyeing the gingerbread. “At least it looks sturdy.”

They picked a design to create, and Bruce handed Clint the icing. “Better let you do this part,” Bruce said. When Clint looked at him again, Bruce held out his hands to show how they were still shaking pretty badly. 

Clint looked away from his hands and met Bruce’s eyes, concern in his gaze. 

Before the archer could say something, Bruce gave him a reassuring smile and took hold of Clint’s hand. “I’m alright,” he said soothingly. “I just don’t want to ruin this before we even get the thing standing.”

Clint turned his hand so he could press a kiss against Bruce’s knuckles. “You’re gonna decorate it with me, right?”

“Of course,” Bruce answered. He looked ruefully at his other hand, at his trembling fingers. “It, uh…it might be a little sloppy, though,” he admitted.

“Good thing we’re not known for our artistic skills, then,” Clint replied with a beaming smile. When Bruce laughed, he pressed one parting kiss to Bruce’s hand before he got to work on creating the gingerbread structure.

“What do the instructions say to do first?” Bruce asked as he watched Clint begin to squirt some icing along one of the edges of the first slab of gingerbread.

“We just need to get the thing standing,” Clint replied distractedly, ignoring the instruction book beneath the pile of candy decorations.

They put one edge of the wall on the base and secured it with more icing. Once they had one wall upright, Bruce kept a finger on it to _keep_ it upright as Clint worked on the second wall. Both of their fingers were getting covered in icing as they tried to attach the two walls together. 

When they _finally_ got the pair of walls to stand upright on their own, there were sugary fingerprints all over both pieces of gingerbread.

“We’re just giving it character,” Bruce said, and Clint laughed as he sucked the icing from his fingertips. 

The archer watched closely as Bruce did the same.

They both got up to get refills of coffee and to rinse their fingers off before they continued.

When they sat back down, Bruce had a sudden thought. “Were we supposed to decorate the pieces of gingerbread before we stuck everything together?”

Clint looked at him for a long moment. “Uh…” He found the instructions under the pile of different candies and looked it over. “…oops,” he said, and Bruce bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Putting the instructions aside, Clint critically studied the two walls they already had standing. “If we take that down, we’ll probably run out of this color icing when we try to get everything else put together,” he said.

“We could decorate them now, while they’re standing,” Bruce suggested.

Clint grinned. “Let’s do that,” he said, reaching for the gumdrops and pieces of other candies.

Together, they managed to get the fingerprint-smeared planes of gingerbread decorated without knocking them off the base.

“Alright!” Clint cheered when they finished decorating the two standing slabs of gingerbread. “That was fun. Do you want to do the other pieces like that?”

“While they’re already standing?” Bruce asked. At Clint’s eager nod, Bruce looked back at the work in progress in front of them. “Well, it’ll only make it harder for us,” he mused, “and the challenge is greater.” He stared at it for a moment longer before he smiled and looked at Clint. “Let’s do it.”

“Sweet,” the archer immediately said.

As Clint reached for the next piece of gingerbread, Bruce smiled again. “Though we should probably decorate the roof before we put it on,” he suggested, “so we don’t accidentally destroy everything while trying to decorate that.”

“Totally,” Clint agreed, already lining one of the edges of the gingerbread in his hand with icing.

They had a few near mishaps as they got the last two walls standing. They had to now make sure they didn’t smudge the two decorated walls while they wrestled with the two plain pieces. Miraculously, they got all four walls standing with only a few smudges of the decorated pieces and even more frosting fingerprints on the plain slabs.

“Now for the tricky part,” Clint said. They now had even more limited room to hold the pieces steady while they decorated. Things didn’t look good.

Clint took a swig of his coffee as he studied the semi-messy gingerbread structure. “We still need to make a door,” he said.

“It’ll have to be on this piece,” Bruce replied, pointing to the piece of gingerbread with a point near the top, so the roof would sit angling down from the point.

They managed to get the door outlined with licorice and used a small chocolate as the doorknob. There were only a few extra smudges of their fingerprints when they were done.

“Beautiful,” Clint said with a bright smile.

They managed to decorate the remaining two walls carefully and almost lost one of the walls in the process. More frosting was added to keep the pieces together.

They sat back to look at the half-finished thing, smudges and fingerprints and all.

“Now for the roof,” Bruce said, pulling the last two pieces of gingerbread toward them.

They settled on a design they could both do without the pieces looking too terribly different. With a quick sip of coffee, they got to work decorating the slabs of gingerbread, and then came the attempt to get the piece affixed to the structure.

Clint lined the top edges of the walls with icing, and they had just enough left to get each edge frosted. Very carefully, they set the two pieces of the roof down. Bruce held the pieces while Clint found a different colored frosting to adhere the pieces together.

“Done!” Clint said triumphantly once they had both carefully retracted their hands and the structure remained standing.

“It’s beautiful,” Bruce said with a smile as Clint sucked some icing off his thumb. He leaned over and kissed him, licking a smudge of icing from just below his bottom lip.

Clint gave him a bright grin when he pulled back. He looked back down at the table. “That’s a lot of left over candy,” he said, picking up a piece of red licorice and biting into it.

As he was chewing, he looked back at Bruce. “How are you feeling?” he asked, growing serious for a moment. His eyes were focused on Bruce’s shaky fingers as he plucked up a stray gumdrop.

Bruce popped the candy into his mouth and chewed silently for a moment. He glanced at the time. “I think I might take a nap until dinner,” he said. It was just a little after three now. He looked back at Clint and smiled. “Would you like to join me?”

“You really have to ask?” Clint inquired as he leaned over, pressing a soft, sweet kiss against Bruce’s lips. He pulled his phone from his pocket and took a picture of the gingerbread house before he stood up and offered Bruce his hand.

Bruce gratefully took it and let Clint pull his stiff body to his feet. They went to Clint’s bedroom, where the archer gave him a change of clothes to sleep in. They both changed out in the open and climbed into bed, slipping under the covers. Bruce happily curled up against Clint, who wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

It didn’t take long to fall asleep.

==

Bruce was gently woken up by Clint before they needed to head upstairs to dinner. When Bruce managed to focus on Clint, he saw that the man looked completely awake. “Did you sleep at all?” Bruce asked softly as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Nah,” Clint replied with a peaceful little smile, lightly running a hand through Bruce’s hair. He showed the physicist his free hand, which held his phone. “I’ve been talking with Tasha.”

“You didn’t have to stay,” Bruce murmured, trying not to fall back asleep under the soothing feel of Clint’s hand in his hair. He opened his eyes again and smiled at Clint. “But I’m glad you did.”

They shared a brief kiss and got up to go shower. “What were you and Natasha talking about?” Bruce asked.

Clint shrugged. “Stuff,” he answered vaguely. He grinned. “I did send her a picture of our gingerbread house, though. I told her we’d bring it up.”

“Okay,” Bruce replied.

They showered together. Sharing a shower with someone again was something Bruce was still marveling over. Getting the chance to wash Clint’s hair sometimes felt more intimate than a majority of the other things they did together. They toweled off quickly and got dressed.

When they got to the kitchen to grab the gingerbread house, they found it in ruins. It had collapsed sometime while they had been in Clint’s room, and was now a mess of gingerbread, candy, and frosting.

They stared at it for a long moment, standing in the doorway to the kitchen shoulder to shoulder, before Clint approached it. He pulled what had been the door off of the edge of the roof and looked at it.

“Well,” Clint said, looking back at Bruce, “at least I took a picture as evidence that it once stood.” He grinned and popped the frosting-covered piece of licorice into his mouth. “Oh well,” he said as he chewed. “We tried.”

Bruce snorted a laugh and walked over to join him. “It probably wouldn’t have survived the trip upstairs, anyway.”

Clint shot him a grin. “I guess we’re bringing dessert.”

Bruce laughed, and they tossed the left over candy on top of the mound of frosting and gingerbread. They took it upstairs with them to share with the rest of the group.


	23. Christmas Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

“Two calls in the same _week?!”_ Tony exclaimed when JARVIS’s voice came over the speaker to the workshop. “But it’s Christmas!”

Bruce just felt his shoulders slump and a sigh escape from him. 

The two had been working together on some modifications to Sam’s wings. They had a holograph to work with instead of the real thing, since Sam had taken the wings home with him yesterday, but Tony was determined to make some upgrades. 

_“I have severe doubts that your enemies care for the proximity of the holiday, sir,”_ JARVIS replied. _“Captain Rogers has asked the team to assemble in the conference room.”_

Tony, muttering under his breath to himself, saved the hologram and stored it away before he looked over at Bruce. The annoyance in his expression softened into a concerned sympathy. “Maybe we won’t need the big guy today,” he said hopefully as they moved out of the workshop and to the elevator.

“I somehow doubt it,” Bruce replied. He had only started feeling completely like himself again that morning. Another transformation for a battle so soon after the last one was going to put his body under terrible strain, but he knew he couldn’t stand by when he could offer his help.

“It’ll be fine, Tony,” Bruce said as they got off the elevator. They rushed to meet the rest of their team in the conference room.

==

“And while we’re waiting for the pizzas to get here,” Tony said from his spot in front of the television, “how about we pick some movies to watch?”

The mission had been fairly straightforward, but they had managed the fight beautifully. Someone had decided to attack a mall in a nearby city where people were getting their last minute Christmas shopping done. He had brought along with him a small army of robots (of course it had been robots) and had some kind of weapon that had been custom build with unknown effects. 

The guy had fired it at the Hulk and landed a solid hit before Steve and Natasha took him down, and at first, it seemed that there wasn’t any effect. The robots were destroyed and none of the mall-goers had been injured, so all-in-all, it was a clear victory.

It wasn’t until Hulk had shrunk back down into Bruce that they realized that the weapon had actually done something: Bruce didn’t pass out. 

Clint had ducked under one of Bruce’s arms, ready to catch his boyfriend when he lost consciousness, but it never happened. Bruce stared lethargically down toward the ground, confused and in pain and wondering why he hadn’t passed out like he normally did after a transformation, let alone a battle. There were times that he lost consciousness for only a few seconds (which was rare), but then there were the really brutal battles where he would be out for hours.

So to not lose consciousness at all was new. He was never awake and aware when his bones and muscles shifted under his skin to refit into a smaller form. It was nauseating and downright _painful,_ and he had suddenly realized why he was always unconscious for that part.

But he didn’t pass out.

He couldn’t.

As it turned out, the weapon that had been fired at the Hulk had the strange side effect of insomnia. No matter how badly Bruce wanted to just pass out and recover from the transformation in his sleep, his body simply refused.

The SHIELD medic/agent who did an analysis of both Bruce and the weapon said the effects should wear off in a few hours, perhaps sooner with the gamma radiation and serum flowing through his veins. In the meantime, Bruce was stuck in a sluggish state, exhausted and in pain but unable to sleep.

Tony was the perfect person to provide a distraction.

“What kind of movies?” Natasha asked Tony, her eyes slightly narrowed. 

“Why don’t we go with a Christmas movie this time?” Steve suggested. “There are plenty of those to choose from, right?”

“I say Bruce gets to pick the first movie,” Clint said from where he was curled up with Bruce on the loveseat. 

Bruce forced himself to focus his eyes on the man snuggled up against him. He lifted an eyebrow, and Clint gave him a smile and a shrug. “What?” the archer said. “You usually don’t ever say what you want to watch with our post-battle team dinners.”

“Cause I usually fall asleep a few minutes after I finish eating,” Bruce grumbled as he looked back off at nothing, too exhausted to focus his eyes.

Without even looking at Tony, Bruce knew the man smirked. “So this is what we get to miss out on when you fall asleep after Mean Green does his thing,” he said in a teasing tone. “I gotta say, big guy, Hulk does angry pretty well, but you have _grumpy_ down pat.”

Bruce mustered enough energy to shoot him a glare.

Tony grinned again, but held his hands up in surrender when he got other looks from their other teammates, who didn’t find Bruce’s predicament as amusing. “Alright, alright,” Tony acquiesced. “Bruce, you get to pick the first movie. Everyone else, start thinking of some Christmas movies. We’re gonna have a marathon.”

Bruce glanced back at Tony. “Don’t you guys usually just watch one movie with the dinner?” he asked curiously, almost suspiciously.

“Normally, yeah,” Tony answered with a casual shrug, “but if you’re stuck awake for who knows how long, we’re staying up with you.”

“What?” Bruce replied eloquently. He managed a glance around the room, despite the sharp ache it sent through his neck and shoulders. They all looked back at him, easily meeting his questioning gaze. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“Solidarity, my friend,” Thor replied from his place in the armchair, giving Bruce a warm, caring smile. 

The man against him gave him a gentle hug, careful not to aggravate the soreness in his body. As the others started discussing movie ideas, Bruce settled against Clint’s side again. He may have been stiff and generally miserable, but at least he could still cuddle with Clint a little. He was touched that the rest of the team wanted to stay up to keep him company in his insomnia.

Bruce fought his foggy mind for a movie they could watch, since he knew that they wouldn’t leave him alone until he decided on a film. He tried to think back to some of the things he had watched as a child.

Bruce felt himself smile. “How about _White Christmas_?” he suggested.

The rest of the room turned back to him. “Which one is that?” Tony asked.

“The one from the 50s,” Bruce replied. “The musical.”

 _“This one, sir,”_ JARVIS said, and the television screen switched on with the title screen for _White Christmas._ There were four people on the screen wearing red and white, standing in a wintery scene and looking unspeakably happy.

Steve squinted at the screen. “Is that Bing Crosby?” he asked.

“It is,” Bruce answered as he curled a little closer to Clint. The muscles in his back and shoulders tightened painfully, but once he stopped moving, the pain turned back into an ache. “This is a good movie.”

 _“Sir, the delivery has just arrived,”_ JARVIS announced.

“Sweet,” Tony said. “Thor, Cap, give me a hand.”

As the three of them went off to go collect the pizzas, Natasha turned to Clint. “What are some other Christmas films?” she asked.

Clint looked off and let the hand resting against Bruce’s arm move soothingly down his arm. It gave Bruce something to focus on instead of the pain still wracking his body from the transformation, and he carefully settled his head against Clint’s shoulder in thanks.

“Let’s see,” Clint said. “There’s _A Christmas Story_ , that’s a good one. There’s the Muppet one, and—oh! What’s that one with Bill Murray?”

 _“Scrooged, sir,”_ JARVIS provided. 

“Yeah, that one!” Clint said with a grin, pointing up at the ceiling. “That’s a good movie.”

“ _Miracle on 34th Street_ is another one,” Bruce added softly without lifting his head from Clint’s shoulder or opening his eyes. “It’s a classic.”

“Oh! And _The Nightmare Before Christmas._ That’s another good one,” the archer continued. He glanced down at Bruce. “Would you vote for that one or _Scrooged_ with me? Cap and Thor should see those.”

“Sure,” Bruce replied quietly. He smiled when he felt Clint press a soft kiss against his forehead.

“You’re the best, babe,” Clint said brightly as he continued to gently stroke along Bruce’s arm. He looked back at Natasha. “Would you be up for either of those?”

Natasha was quiet for a moment, and when Bruce opened his eyes again, he caught her watching them. “You showed me _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ a few years ago,” she said to Clint. “I haven’t heard of the other one before.”

“I haven’t either, honestly,” Bruce mused out loud.

Clint was quiet for a long beat. “We’ll have half the vote if you guys vote with me on that one,” he said seriously, like a master strategist, and Bruce huffed a soft laugh.

==

In the end, the six of them settled on three movies to watch after _White Christmas._ They all ate pizza to the song and dance of the 50s classic. Next came _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ , which had won by a landslide once Steve and Thor saw that it was a stop-motion picture. Their curiosity won them that movie.

Pepper came up from the office in the middle of the film and sat down next to Tony. Bruce could just barely hear Tony whispering what had happened during the battle and why they were marathoning Christmas movies, but the way Clint had gently begun to stroke his hair kept his attention fixed solely on the archer’s hand and the movie on the screen.

Third was _A Christmas Story_ , since it was another classic that needed to be seen by Thor and Captain America. Steve particularly liked that one, and Thor had laughed boisterously at the many comedic scenes.

They rounded out their evening with the Tim Allen comedy _The Santa Clause_ , which was one Bruce hadn’t seen before. 

By the end of the fourth movie, it was getting close to midnight. As the credits began to roll, the rest of the team glanced toward Bruce, who was still awake. 

“One more?” Tony suggested.

Bruce took a look around the room. He knew that the others wanted to stay awake for his sake, but it was getting late. “Please don’t force yourselves to stay up on my account,” he said. “I think whatever he hit me with is just starting to wear off.”

Clint made a thoughtful noise, and Bruce peered over at him. The archer offered a smile. “Well, _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ isn’t that long,” he suggested.

“The cartoon one?” Natasha asked.

And so the seven of them stayed up until after midnight, watching the animated television special of a Dr. Seuss book. Over the course of the show, Bruce could finally feel the restlessness begin to retreat, and that bone-weary exhaustion started to rush up on him fast. 

By the end, Bruce could barely keep his eyes open. He was vaguely aware of the others speaking in soft tones, but then he and Clint were getting up off of the loveseat and making their way to the elevator.

“Eight and a half hours,” Clint was saying. “SHIELD needs to rethink their definition of what “a few” means.”

Bruce merely hummed in agreement, trying his best not to collapse right there in the elevator. “The movies were nice, though,” he mumbled into Clint’s shoulder.

“Yeah, they were,” Clint replied in a content tone, brushing his hand through Bruce’s hair again as the elevator took them to Bruce’s floor.

“Maybe we can watch that other movie t’morrow,” Bruce went on, his words slurring slightly together.

They made it to the floor and through the suite to Bruce’s room. Clint made Bruce sit down on the bed before he fell over and helped him out of his clothes and into some pajamas, making idle conversation about nothing the entire time.

“Do you want me to stay?” Clint asked when he was finished, getting to his feet.

Bruce forced his eyes open and he glanced blearily up at his boyfriend. Even in his exhaustion, the blurred form of Clint was gorgeous. Still… “You don’t have to,” Bruce answered belatedly, sleepily.

Clint smiled again and rested his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, leaning down until they were at eye level so Bruce wouldn’t have to strain his stiff neck. Bruce wanted to kiss him for his consideration and kindness. “I’m asking what you want, babe,” Clint said softly. “I’d be happy to stay, but I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

The two looked at each other for a long time, one pair of eyes sharp and clear while the other was almost glazed with fatigue. 

Finally, Bruce leaned forward. Clint must have thought he was falling since he moved to catch him, but Bruce planted a kiss against his lips. It probably wasn’t that pleasant on the receiving end, but he still felt Clint’s lips twist upward immediately in a smile before he kissed him back.

They broke apart. “Stay,” Bruce murmured. When he forced his eyes open again, he found the most gorgeous smile on Clint’s face. 

They kissed briefly again before Clint went to Bruce’s dresser to find some clothes he could wear to sleep. Bruce managed to get the covers pushed back, but he didn’t lie down yet, since he knew that he’d fall dead asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He watched Clint dress and remove his hearing aids.

Clint climbed into bed and JARVIS started to dim the lights. Bruce stayed sitting upright for a moment, just looking down at Clint through half-lidded eyes. 

The archer got comfortable, and when he looked up at Bruce, he opened his arms. Bruce felt himself smile and he finally shifted to lay down, curling right up against Clint. He drew a deep breath in as Clint pulled the covers up over them, and their legs tangled together.

“G’night, Bruce,” Clint whispered.

Bruce knew Clint wouldn’t hear him reply, so he instead pressed a kiss against the other man’s throat and snuggled closer. From the way Clint drew him in a little tighter, the archer got the general sentiment. 

Finally, _finally,_ he fell asleep with the feeling of Clint against his sore body and the scenes of different Christmas movies playing in his head.


	24. Presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Bruce walked into the living room on the communal floor with a gift and a card in his hands. He was still moving a little stiffly, but he had slept soundly for several uninterrupted hours, so he was feeling significantly better than he did last night. 

There were a few gifts already under the Christmas tree, so he added his below the branches, too. He stepped back and felt a small smile touch his lips.

The Secret Santa gift exchange was tonight.

==

Coulson came over, and the eight of them had a Christmas Eve dinner together. It was just as crazy as most of their meals were, full of loud conversation. The wine flowed freely, along with Tony’s boozy eggnog, and they all laughed easily with one another.

After dinner was finished, they all moved out into the living room. Pepper and Tony brought out some sweets to set down on the coffee table, which included the cookies Clint and Bruce had made a few days ago. 

With the Christmas tree lit, it made for a very homey atmosphere. They chatted for a while, munching on cookies and other sweets lying out, before Pepper stood up. “Alright, who’s ready for the Secret Santa thing?” she asked, and everyone gave a cheer. “Okay,” she said. “Everyone pick a number between one and twenty.”

Everyone called out a number, and Pepper pointed to Thor. “You were the closest, so you get to go first.”

She went to the tree and found the present for Thor from the mystery person.

“Thank you,” Thor said when Pepper handed him the gift. It was a thick present with a bow, and there was a card on it that said it should be opened second. 

Thor set the card aside for the moment and pulled the wrapping paper off to reveal a thick book. He smiled broadly as he took in the cover. “ _The Complete Works of Shakespeare_ ,” he announced as he opened the anthology to peer at the table of contents. “It seems to include everything. Thank you.”

He set the heavy book aside and opened the card, and a small piece of paper fell out. He picked it up and looked at it before a radiant smile crossed his face. “A season’s pass to a theater that specializes in the work of Shakespeare,” he said to the room. “How wonderful!” He read the card. “Thank you, kind giver.”

“Have an idea of who your Secret Santa is?” Pepper asked from her place next to Tony.

Thor looked around the room, glancing at each of his friends closely as he considered. “I will have to say Tony,” Thor said at last, eyes settling on the engineer. “When we first met, you made a comment about how my speech was similar to this fine writer.”

Tony grinned. “I did make a comment like that, didn’t I?” he said. “But no, I’m not your Santa.”

“You can guess again at the end,” Pepper said to Thor. “Now go ahead and choose a number for us to guess to see who goes next.”

Clint picked the number Thor had chosen, so he went next. Thor brought him a gift bag with decorations of snowflakes on it and bright red tissue paper inside. Clint smiled at the decorative bag before he set it down. He dug through the tissue paper to pull out not one, but two individually wrapped gifts and a card. 

He unwrapped the first gift, which was the smaller of the two and easily fit in his hand. It was a case, and when he opened it, he let out a laugh. “Oh man,” he said with a grin, pulling out a pair of deep purple tinted sunglasses. He slipped them on his face and immediately grinned again. “These are great. Thank you.”

With the sunglasses still on, he picked up the next gift, which was soft and squishy. He pulled the wrapping paper off to reveal a new purple hooded sweatshirt. He pulled it on over his head. “Oh, it’s _soft,”_ he said reverently as he fixed the sunglasses on his face. He held out his arm to Bruce, who obligingly felt the fabric. It was indeed very soft.

Clint opened the card last, and his eyes widened behind the glasses. He pulled out the blueprints to a new arrowhead. A typed note in the card said that the new arrowhead was in development and would be ready for testing in February. “Oh wow,” he said quietly, gratitude thick in his voice.

He looked around the room. “Hmm,” he hummed as he considered the group of friends, a smile touching his lips. “My first guesses would be Tony or Bruce,” he said, but then his eyes settled on the woman next to Tony. “But I do remember _you_ saying something about me needing a thicker sweater back when it started getting cold.”

Pepper’s face broke out into a warm smile. “Merry Christmas,” she said. “I asked Tony and Bruce to make you something new. R&D has the blueprints now and will start working on developing it after the New Year.”

“That is _awesome,”_ Clint said, grinning widely. “Thank you so much.”

Next to go was Tony. Clint gave him a decently size box from under the tree. Tony unwrapped the gift and pulled the lid off of the box to reveal a series of black frames. He pulled out the one up front to find a photograph of himself and Pepper dancing together at the Christmas gala a few days ago. It was a gorgeous picture of the two of them.

As he took in the image, a soft, loving smile spread on his face. He showed Pepper, who smiled and blushed slightly. When he showed the room, Bruce bit back a knowing smile and kept himself from looking at Steve.

The gift turned out to be a series of different photographs, and a majority of them consist of him and Pepper together. 

Tony got to the last one. “Holy…” he breathed as he pulled the last frame out of the box. His eyes shot straight to Steve, who wasn’t even bothering to hide his warm smile.

When Tony showed the room the final frame, everyone murmured a soft sound of awe. Inside the black frame was a beautiful sketch of the couple laughing together, and Bruce was instantly taken back to when they had been decorating the tree earlier in the month. 

“Steve,” Tony said, looking back at the sketch, “this is _gorgeous._ Thank you.”

“You are very welcome,” Steve replied softly.

Tony stared at the sketch for a moment longer before he grinned over at the soldier. “Though the whole _secret_ thing seemed lost,” he commented lightly.

Steve shrugged even as a sheepish grin touched his features. “I knew you’d like this.”

“I do,” Tony said genuinely. “Thank you.”

Next was Bruce. Tony grinned when he found the package under the tree, and when he gave it to the other man, Bruce could see why. The wrapping paper on the gift was done nicely, but there was a plethora of ribbons and an enormous bow on top. He already had an idea of who it was from, but he smiled and carefully unwrapped it.

The gift was a large, thick book, about the size of an encyclopedia but heavier. The cover looked old, so he handled it with care. There wasn’t a title on the front, so he gingerly opened the book. After pulling on his glasses, he looked at the page, and he saw that the words written on the front page were not in a language Bruce had ever seen before.

Then, before his eyes, the words seemed to shift, changing and morphing effortlessly until everything was in English. His eyes widened behind his lenses and he looked straight at Thor, who was beaming ear to ear. “How did…?”

“I asked one of the palace mages to cast an illusionary spell on the tome to give it the power of Allspeak,” Thor explained, not even bothering to try to keep it a secret that he gave the gift. 

Bruce looked back at the book. Now that he could actually make sense of the words, he saw that it was a volume of various different subjects, all of which seemed to revolve around some form of magic. Oh, he was going to have _so_ much fun with this.

“This is incredible, Thor,” Bruce said reverently, slipping his glasses off and looking at the Asgardian. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You are most welcome, friend,” Thor replied with a bright smile.

Next to go was Coulson. Bruce gave him a fairly flat box that was neatly wrapped. 

Coulson carefully pulled the paper away and pulled open the box before his eyes slightly widened. He stared for a moment before he set the lid aside and carefully, _so_ carefully, pulled out what looked to be a very old comic.

“This is one of the rarest issues,” the agent breathed, and when he gingerly turned it around, they all saw that it was a vintage copy of a Captain America comic. Steve promptly flushed.

“Thank you,” Coulson said as he gently put the precious paperback back into the box. He looked around the room, eyes flicking from Natasha to Tony and back again before they settled on Tony. “You’re my Secret Santa,” he said.

Tony grinned. “I am,” he confirmed. “That’s actually one of the comics my old man bought and gave to me decades ago. I figured you didn’t have it yet.”

“This is amazing. Thank you,” Coulson said again.

Next was Natasha. 

Bruce kept his face carefully neutral even as nerves began to make him antsy. He didn’t know for sure if she would like what he got her.

Coulson gave her the card and box he had set under the tree earlier. The envelope said it should be opened first, so that was what she did. She pulled out the card and opened it. She caught the piece of paper inside before it slipped out, which she looked at briefly. An eyebrow rose, and she went on to read the typed message inside the card. 

“It’s a weekend trip to a spa up north,” she announced to the room. She read the message inside the card silently, and Bruce remembered agonizing over what to say in the message. It said that she did so much for everyone else all the time, and that she deserved something just for herself for a change. The gift was actually two tickets, so she could bring a friend of her choosing along with her.

Relief rushed through him when a warm, touched smile crossed her face. “Thank you,” she said softly. She carefully unwrapped the other gift and immediately smiled. Her eyes went straight to Bruce. “Was this a _just in case_ present?” she asked.

Bruce smiled freely, knowing the secret was out. “Yeah,” he replied.

Natasha smiled again and looked back at the box, which had a typed note on it. “Supposedly the best mint chocolates in the world?” she read.

“Oh man,” Clint said.

Bruce smiled and lightly bumped his shoulder against Clint’s. “I’ll let you be the judge,” he said to Natasha. “Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you, Bruce,” she said, holding up the card again and referencing what she hadn’t read out loud to the rest of the group.

Next was Pepper. Natasha gave her a single card, which she opened delicately. She looked briefly at the paper clipped to the card, but elected to read the message first. “Oh wow,” she said as her smile widened. “It’s an exclusive, all-year pass to the Museum of Modern Art,” she said, “with backroom access. This is… This is amazing. Thank you.”

She glanced between Clint, Natasha, and Coulson. “I’m going to say,” she began, dragging out the last word, “Phil.”

Coulson smiled kindly. “Merry Christmas,” he said.

“Thank you so much,” Pepper said again.

The last to go was Steve. Pepper brought him a wrapped gift, which he opened carefully. He smiled over at Natasha when he saw that it was an art tablet, the kind you hooked up to a computer to do digital art with.

Natasha offered a shrug. “You mentioned wanting to learn,” she said.

“I did,” Steve admitted. “Thank you.”

There was a note taped to the top which said to open the box, so he did. He pulled out a small slip of paper and unfolded it curiously.

He immediately stopped smiling. 

Steve stared at the paper for a long moment before he looked at Natasha, looking almost desperately hopeful. “Is this…?”

“Coordinates to the Winter Soldier’s last whereabouts,” Natasha confirmed. She glanced briefly over at Coulson. “The sighting came in late last night. We leave tomorrow to spend Christmas with Sam and his family, and then the three of us go to find him the next day.”

Steve stared at her, at a complete loss for words. Bruce thought he saw a sheen of wetness in the soldier’s eyes. They had lost the trail of the Winter Soldier sometime in September.

Suddenly, Steve reached over and pulled Natasha into a tight embrace. The spy let him, though they all knew she could have easily dodged the hug. “Thank you,” he said softly, sincerely grateful. “I don’t even… _Thank you,”_ he said fervently.

The two of them hugged for a moment longer before they broke apart. “You can thank me if we find him this time,” Natasha said quietly.

They all wished each other a merry Christmas and embraces are exchanged. Thor gave Clint a firm clap on the back and a hearty thank you for his gifts, since he hadn’t guessed who his Secret Santa was in the beginning.

Natasha pulled Bruce into a long hug. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t know if I agree with everything you said in your card,” she admitted, “but thank you.”

Bruce gave her a light squeeze. “If your gift to Steve wasn’t a clear sign that you are always looking out for everyone else, I don’t know what is,” he said quietly.

Natasha snorted a laugh. “I don’t know for sure if we’ll actually find him.”

“If you guys need any help, let us know,” Bruce replied. “We’ll help out in any way we can.”

The group got some more wine and settled in together to watch a Christmas movie. Bruce snuggled up next to Clint. “This really is soft,” he said quietly as he rested his head against Clint’s shoulder.

Clint smiled and pressed a kiss against Bruce’s temple, and then to his lips when Bruce turned his head for a proper kiss.

They all settled in together, a fire in the fireplace and the glow from the Christmas tree casting colorful lights around the room.

It was a peaceful night.


	25. Fireplace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.

Bruce woke up slowly, caught in the cocoon of warmth he’d grown to love in the past few weeks. He peeked down at Clint, who was still fast asleep with his face pressed against Bruce’s chest, breathing deeply. 

Bruce smiled at the sight of him and pressed a soft, feather-light kiss against his cheek. Clint smiled in his sleep and snuggled a little closer, and Bruce felt his heart melt a little.

Curling up a little closer to Clint, Bruce let himself slip back into a doze. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered before he fell back asleep.

==

“Merry Christmas, one and all!” Tony proclaimed loud and proud two and half hours later.

Everyone was gathered for breakfast, which was something of a feast. It was the team plus Pepper, and they were all well rested, showered, and ready to begin the holiday. It had been agreed earlier in the week that they would all have breakfast together on Christmas morning before everyone went off in different directions.

Everybody dug in. Bruce helped himself to a cinnamon roll and some fruit before he sat down next to Clint at the table, who had his own cinnamon roll and a helping of eggs. The archer was wearing his new sweater, much to the delight of Pepper.

“So, what’s everyone’s plan for the day?” Pepper asked once they were all seated and had put a good dent into their breakfast. 

There was a pause before Steve spoke. “Natasha and I are heading out around eleven to get to DC. Sam’s grandmother is having Christmas at her house, and she and Sam invited us out.” He paused for a moment. “And then we go find Bucky tomorrow.”

“Try not to be too distracted around Sam’s family today,” Natasha said, reaching over to pat Steve’s hand.

Steve smiled at that. It was an easy smile, but it bespoke of his anticipation to head out. “I won’t,” he replied. “Sam’s grandmother is a riot, and the two of them together…” He turned his smile back at Natasha. “You’ll like her,” he said. 

“How about you, Thor?” Tony asked before taking a sip of coffee.

“I am headed to my Lady Jane’s abode around eleven as well,” the Asgardian said. “She made mention that Dr. Selvig and the Lady Darcy would be with their families today until this evening, and I wish to spend the day with her.”

“That sounds nice,” Pepper said. “You didn’t have to stay around for the breakfast if you wanted to have a Christmas morning with her.”

Thor grinned. “She stayed up late last night to watch the stars. She will likely just be awakening when I arrive.”

“What about you two?” Bruce asked, glancing at Pepper and Tony.

Pepper smiled over at Tony and the two interlaced their fingers together. “It’ll probably be a quiet day. Rhodey is flying in for dinner.” She looked at Clint and Bruce. “You two are welcome to join us for dinner if you’d like or if you don’t have any other plans.”

Bruce looked at Clint, who smiled. “Maybe,” Clint replied. “Our plans aren’t set in stone quite yet.”

There were a few things that Bruce wanted to share with Clint today, but there was one big thing that he wanted to share with someone else.

==

“You sure you want to do this today?” Clint asked as the two of them stepped off of the elevator. “We can always do it tomorrow.”

“It’s fine,” Bruce said. “As long as you’re okay with relaxing for a good chunk of the afternoon.”

“As long as I’m with you, I am,” Clint replied, and Bruce leaned over to kiss him.

They were in the underground training facility, the one with the high ceilings and the reinforced walls. It was completely empty aside from them. Clint was holding the last of the stockings to be opened in his hand: the one for the Hulk.

“I don’t want to deny him part of a Christmas day,” Bruce said as he started to pull off his sweater.

“I’ll make sure he takes it easy,” Clint promised as he watched Bruce undress. 

They shared one last kiss before they both sat down on the floor. Bruce closed his eyes and let the green haze settle over him.

==

Clint stayed seated, watching his boyfriend’s body grow until Hulk was sitting before him. The archer gave him a smile when Hulk’s eyes opened and were focused on him.

A smile crossed Hulk’s face. “Cupid,” he rumbled.

“Hi Hulk,” Clint greeted him. He scooted closer, pulling the stocking along with him. “How are you doing?”

Hulk looked around, sniffing the air for a moment as if to discern if there was any danger nearby. “Not cold,” he answered once he had determined that they were safe. 

Clint laughed. “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied. When he saw Hulk curiously eyeing the stocking net to him, Clint smiled. “Do you know what day it is?” he asked.

Hulk thought about it for a moment. “Thursday,” he said.

A grin crossed Clint’s face. “No. Well, yeah, it’s Thursday, but today is a special Thursday,” he said. “It’s Christmas.”

“Christmas,” Hulk repeated.

“That’s right,” Clint confirmed. “Bruce wanted to share this special day with you. So, if you’d like to, we’re going to do your stocking together.”

“Stocking?” Hulk asked. When Clint held up the oversized sock, the goliath leaned forward to look more closely at it. He lightly poked the glitter glue that spelt out his name. “What is?”

“It’s just a big sock that everyone put little gifts in for you,” Clint explained. “Everyone got one, and Bruce wanted to make sure you got to open yours today, because it’s Christmas.”

Hulk stared at him for a long moment, and for one sad second, Clint didn’t think the big guy understood. But then a soft, touched smile appeared on Hulk’s face, looking nearly identical to a face Bruce would have made, and Clint felt something in his chest warm pleasantly.

“Nice,” the behemoth said softly.

Clint only gave him a warm smile and reached into the stocking. He pulled out a bag of candies that Steve had put in everyone’s stocking. “You got some candy,” he said, showing Hulk the bag. He opened it and poured some of the sweets out into Hulk’s hand.

“Cupid have some,” Hulk said as he was munching on the candy.

Clint grinned and helped himself to a single piece. “Thank you,” he said as he popped the candy into his mouth.

The next thing he pulled out was the silly string he had bought specifically for Hulk. He smiled wide and showed it to Hulk. “This is a fun gift,” he said.

“Fun?” Hulk asked.

Another grin touched the archer’s lips and he squirted some of the silly string up into the air. Hulk leaned back quickly and watched as the stingy foam landed on the ground. 

“It’s silly string,” Clint said with a wide smile. “You push this button down on top and the string comes out. Try it!”

Delicately, Hulk took the canister from Clint’s outstretched hand and held it between two fingers. He pointed it downward and carefully pressed the button. Some of the pink string came shooting out and landed atop the string Clint had fired a minute ago. 

Hulk immediately grinned and did it again, this time shooting it at Clint.

Clint laughed and held up a hand to protect himself. The string landed harmlessly in his lap.

Hulk grinned widely again and set the canister of silly string down next to Clint. “Fun,” he said in agreement.

Together, they continued to go through the gifts in the stocking. It was mostly candy, but there were a few little toys that Hulk found interesting. 

When Clint pulled out the bag of peppermint bark Bruce had made for everyone, he smiled brightly. “Oh, this stuff is _good,”_ he said, opening the bag and pulling out a slab to give to Hulk. “This is called peppermint bark. Bruce made this special for everyone.”

Hulk popped the piece into his mouth and smiled as he was chewing. “Minty,” he said happily.

The last thing Clint pulled from the stocking was a little card. He instantly recognized Bruce’s handwriting on the front of the envelope. “This is a card from Bruce,” he said to Hulk.

“Card?”

“Yeah,” Clint replied. He stood up and walked over to Hulk, getting into his lap. Hulk welcomed him with a content rumble, almost a purr. “Let’s read it together,” the archer said once he was comfortable. He smiled when one of Hulk’s palms rested gently against his thigh to keep him steady.

Clint opened the envelope and pulled out the card. The front was a snowy scene with two little snow angels on the ground.

Hulk immediately beamed. “Snow angels!” he said happily.

“Yeah!” Clint replied with a bright smile. He gave Hulk another moment to look at the front of the card before he opened it.

Inside was a handwritten message. “Here’s what it says,” Clint said, since he wasn’t sure if Hulk knew how to read or not. Something to ask Bruce later, he supposed.

_“Dear Hulk,”_ he read. _“I want to wish you a very merry Christmas. I hope you are having fun with Clint—Cupid, I guess.”_

Clint paused for a moment before he went on to the next paragraph. _“I wanted to say thank you for all of the great things you have done since we joined the Avengers. You have made so much progress, and I couldn’t be prouder.”_

A smile crossed the archer’s face as he continued. _“I hope you’re having a merry Christmas, Hulk. Don’t eat all of your candy now, and give Cupid a hug for me. I am so proud of you. Merry Christmas. Love, Bruce.”_

Hulk pulled Clint bodily to his chest, and Clint couldn’t help but laugh as Hulk gave him the biggest hug he had ever received. The goliath leaned back until he was lying out on the floor with Clint pinned to his massive chest. Clint twisted in his arms enough so he was lying on his stomach, and when he glanced up toward the behemoth’s face, he saw such a look of happiness on the Hulk’s usually angry face that Clint felt himself smile involuntarily. 

“Nice,” Hulk said softly. “Nice, nice, nice.”

Clint smiled and settled his head against Hulk’s chest, relishing the warmth. “Merry Christmas, Hulk,” he said softly.

“Merry Christmas, Cupid,” Hulk replied tranquilly. He lifted his head and looked down at Clint. “Cupid tell Banner merry Christmas for Hulk?”

A smile immediately made its way across Clint’s face. “Of course,” he promised. 

Hulk gave a nod and let his head rest back against the floor again. “Hulk go back to sleep now,” he said. “Christmas special. Enjoy special Christmas with Banner.”

Clint smiled again and managed to wriggle out from under Hulk’s arms enough to scoot forward along the massive chest under him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against Hulk’s cheek, and then grinned widely when a dark green blush appeared. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Hulk gave him another smile. “Thank you, Cupid,” the goliath replied before he began to start shrinking down.

Clint scrambled off of Hulk’s rapidly shrinking chest and knelt down next to the transforming body lying on the floor. He brushed his hand through the hair that didn’t seem to change at all until it was Bruce lying there, panting slightly with his eyes closed.

While he waited for Bruce to regain consciousness, Clint drifted away to start putting Hulk’s gifts back into his stocking.

==

“Hey babe.”

Bruce blinked his eyes open slowly, squinting against the harsh gym lights overhead. He squeezed his eyes shut again before he opened them once more. This time, Clint’s face was directly over his, blocking the light. 

“Hey,” Bruce replied after a moment.

Clint helped him sit up. “How are you feeling?”

Taking stock of his limbs, Bruce found that he was feeling okay. Not great, but okay. The pain wasn’t terrible, but he was still a little sore. For coming out of a transformation, though, he felt pretty great. “I’m okay,” he answered after a moment, stretching slightly. When the motion wasn’t met with anything worse than a dull ache, Bruce looked over at Clint. “Pretty okay, actually,” he amended. “Did he not move?”

“Not really,” Clint replied, dragging the pile of clothes over for Bruce to get dressed again. “We just sat and opened up his stocking together. He _really_ liked your card. He wanted me to wish you a merry Christmas from him.”

Bruce felt himself smile at that and he pulled his shirt over his head, grateful when Clint helped. “I’m glad he liked his stocking.”

Clint helped pull Bruce up to his feet, and he drew the physicist into a long, warm embrace. “I really liked your card, too,” Clint said. 

Huffing a laugh, Bruce returned the hug and buried his face against his boyfriend’s shoulder, loving the softness of the sweater against his skin. 

The two of them stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other in the middle of the silent gym. Finally, Clint pressed a soft kiss against Bruce’s forehead. “Your place or mine?” he asked.

Bruce thought about it for a moment. “How about the communal floor?” he said. “The tree’s there.”

When Clint pressed another kiss against Bruce’s forehead, he could feel the smile on the archer’s lips. “Alright.”

They returned to the elevator. On the way up, Bruce pressed the button for his floor. “I need to, uh…grab something,” he said.

“I need to grab something from my floor, too,” Clint admitted as he reached over and pressed the button for his floor also.

They reached Bruce’s floor first, and once Clint was sure that Bruce wasn’t going to collapse, he let Bruce go into the suite alone. 

Bruce walked into his room and then into his closet, pulling out the gift he had hidden in there, just in case Clint had ever needed to go through his dresser for some makeshift pajamas. It was a good thing he hadn’t hidden the gift in the dresser, he mused, since he vaguely remembered his boyfriend pulling clothes from the dresser late on the 23rd. 

The present was bulky, but not at all heavy, and it squished a little if he held it too tightly. He carried it with him back to the elevator, pressing a kiss against Clint’s lips as he returned to his side.

They stopped off at Clint’s floor a moment later. Bruce didn’t have to wait long before Clint returned to the lift with a wrapped box-shaped gift in his hands. He gave Bruce a bright smile and a soft kiss as he wrapped an arm around Bruce’s body and drew him in close.

Together, they made it to the communal floor. For as loud and alive as it had been earlier during the breakfast, it was now completely quiet and peaceful. Thor, Natasha, and Steve had gone off to spend the rest of Christmas elsewhere, and Tony and Pepper were likely upstairs in the penthouse, enjoying a quiet Christmas together. The communal floor was empty, but with the Christmas tree still lit, it made for a warm, cheerful, and festive atmosphere. The sky outside the windows is grey, and snowflakes fell lazily from the sky.

They settled on the loveseat together, curled up against one another. After setting Hulk’s stocking down on the coffee table, Clint pressed a soft kiss against Bruce’s lips, and Bruce returned it gently. 

When they broke apart, Bruce couldn’t help but smile. There was warmth flowing inside of him, and he felt light. He handed Clint the gift. “Merry Christmas,” he said softly.

Clint smiled. He pulled the wrapping paper off and his smile widened. “Ooh, this is nice,” he said, pulling the new polyester and fleece blanket from the wrapping paper. It was a king sized blanket, the same shade of purple that Clint seemed to love. Clint pulled the cardboard holder off and shook out the blanket. 

“I know you get cold when you sleep,” Bruce said, “so I figured you could use something new.”

“It’s perfect, babe. Thank you” Clint said with a bright smile. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Bruce’s smiling lips. “Now your turn.”

Bruce smiled again and looked down at the gift in his lap. He pulled away the wrapping paper and smiled. He opened the box and pulled out a large mug that had a number of different formulas decorating it. It was a deep cup, the kind that could hold at least two cups of coffee in it in one go.

“You mentioned a couple mornings ago that I didn’t have any deep mugs in my suite,” Clint explained as he watched Bruce turn the cup over in his hands. “If you want, you can take that back to your place, or you could leave it in mine and use it when you stay the night.”

Bruce looked over at Clint and smiled. “I love it,” he said. “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to Clint’s lips, smiling when the archer returned the kiss happily.

They broke apart a few moments later, and Clint pressed a soft kiss against Bruce’s temple. “Would you like a coffee or anything?” he asked quietly.

“That sounds really nice, actually,” Bruce replied.

They shared a parting kiss as Clint grabbed Bruce’s new mug and went off to the kitchen. Bruce watched him leave before he looked around the room again. The Christmas tree was on, but the daylight coming in from the window kept the glow at a minimum. The stockings were still hanging up across the mantle.

Bruce glanced at the coffee table, where Clint had dropped Hulk’s stocking off. He carefully got up and picked the stocking up to return it to its hook, and he paused as he looked down at the fireplace. 

Another warm smile touched his lips.

When Clint came back out of the kitchen with a single mug of coffee and a napkin with a few Christmas cookies on it, the archer paused. “What’s this?” he asked as a smile grew across his face.

Bruce had migrated down to the floor in front of the fireplace, where a gas fire was burning happily, emitting a delicious heat that made Bruce feel sleepy. He had Clint’s new blanket hanging from his shoulders. 

He glanced up at Clint, giving him an affectionate smile before patting the space on the floor next to him. Clint smiled warmly and closed the distance between them. 

After setting the mug of coffee down on the floor in front of them, Clint ducked under the blanket and pulled Bruce against him. Bruce happily went, feeling drowsy and warm and generally just really happy. Once Bruce had molded himself to Clint’s side, Clint rearranged the blankets around them and welcomed Bruce’s weight against him. 

They watched the fire dance in the fireplace, content to just sit and enjoy the tranquility of their environment. Clint reached over and broke one of the cookies into smaller pieces before offering Bruce a piece.

Together, they fell into a drowsy afternoon, munching lazily on bits of cookies and sharing a mug of coffee between them. There were no other distractions, no other teammates or friends to take them away from this. Just the two of them, enjoying a quiet moment together.

The fire crackled and popped pleasantly behind the grate, and Bruce drew a deep breath in. As he exhaled, he melted a little more against Clint, and Clint tipped his head to the side to rest atop Bruce’s. Bruce smiled.

They would likely go upstairs to join Pepper, Rhodey, and Tony for Christmas dinner, but until then, Bruce had Clint, and he wanted nothing more.

“Merry Christmas, Bruce,” Clint murmured softly, shifting just enough to kiss Bruce’s hair.

Bruce smiled happily to himself before he carefully lifted his head to press a long, lazy kiss against Clint’s mouth. He tasted like coffee and cookies, and with the warmth surrounding him, Bruce couldn’t imagine a more prefect feeling. 

They broke apart and met each other’s eyes. He could see the love and affection in Clint’s sharp gaze, and he knew that Clint could see it in his eyes, too. It made his stomach twist in a new way to see that kind of look, but it was a most wonderful sensation. 

They shared another long, lingering kiss before they settled against one another again, facing the fireplace. Between the warmth of the fire, the blanket, and Clint, Bruce let himself sink into the lovely heat, content to stay there forever with Clint.

“Merry Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! Thanks so much for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Our First Christmas Art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6153883) by [BookSmartMione](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookSmartMione/pseuds/BookSmartMione)




End file.
